Travel: Bakersfield.com

The Californian in Paris

Just before we were to go to Italy and France, we read in the Californian a little

travel article on sights in Paris. Well, we took this as a good sign that all would be

well with the trip. We went to the area described in the aricle to have an ice cream and

see if it was worth the trip. It was! A photo showing the article is included.

Sherry and Marvin

street light replacement

There was a street light at the corner of Fairfax and Highland Oaks, until a privileged motorist knocked it out. I always used that light to know where to turn into that housing development. The city came and re-cemented the section, without replacing the street light. The replaced sidewalk section is not level with the existing sidewalk and I have several times tripped while walking around that corner, or jolted my lower spine on the opposite drop. We paid taxes for that street light. Why is the light not replaced, and why is the sidewalk not repaired properly? When I fall, who pays my medical bills because of an now existing public liability?

Life in Estonia: Snow Problem?

I'm a Bakersfield native currently living and teaching English in the small town of Tapa, Estonia (population 7,000). Where is Estonia? In Northern Europe's Baltic Region, just west of Russia and below Finland.

Not a whole lot of people live in Estonia. When you consider that its land mass is roughly double the area of Kern county yet is inhabited by fewer than 1.5 million people, you get a get a pretty good sense of just how sparsely populated the country is. But Estonians wouldn't have it any other way. Around here, towns are small, communities are tight, and nature abounds.

I've been here for 7 months now and have enjoyed experiencing the changing of the seasons in ways I've never before known. I'm not sure if I should consider myself particularly lucky or unlucky, seeing as how this season is shaping out to be the most snow-filled that the country has seen in a hundred years. After 3 months of below-freezing temperatures and still no sign of spring, I often daydream about California weather.

Anyway, here are some photos from my first "real" winter.

Romanzo a Venezia (Romance in Venice)

As a second generation Italian American lately possessed of the compulsion to explore my roots and reunite with long lost relatives, my husband and I were fortunate to visit Italy several times in recent years. For months prior to our second visit to Italy, we had toyed with the idea of renewing our marriage vows there. We had attempted several times to contact Italian representatives in San Francisco and Los Angeles; they never responded to our inquiries about marriage in Italy.

Then we found some information on the Internet, which, to our consternation, indicated that marriages in Italy were exorbitantly expensive. We would have to publish banns, a costly and lengthy procedure! At the time, we had not differentiated the term, marriage vows, from renewing marriage vows. In essence, our adventure commenced upon our arrival in Venice.

Television travel shows and other visual media have photographed the world famous Rialto Bridge in Venice, Italy, on either side of which you will find both local and regional government offices. We visited all of them in our quest to learn how to renew our vows, taking pleasure in our labored (Italian) communication with the secretaries and registrars, and with the recorders and the guards–who were very kind. But no one knew what to tell us. No one knew how we could go about renewing our vows. They kept sending us from one department to another, from one building to another…

At long last, a gentleman from the local magistrate’s office informed us that the Catholic Church could help us. We were to go to the Basilica di San Marco; enter through the side door and talk to Signor Sambione. So, off to the Piazza San Marco we scampered, past the spectacle of turisti nelle gondole (tourists in gondolas) gliding by their hotel rooms, steam-baking in the July sun. By the time we arrived at the piazza, it was early afternoon, and we were uncomfortably aware how Piazza San Marco in July is so full of tourists and so oppressively warm as well.

The caretaker of the great Basilica was very kind, and after listening to our story, which I related to him in my broken Italian (I actually thought I sounded pretty good, but you never know how you sound when you are learning a language.), he directed us inside to talk. I thought we were going to meet the Sacerdote, but no; we were directed to the sacristy, at the rear of the church, where we met again with the caretaker, who set us up with an appointment for the next day at 11:00 a.m.

Having the appointment meant we were now committed. I needed a decent “dress” to wear. A sweet young lady in Luisa La Spagnola, a small dress shop nearby, had just the thing – a charming woven skirt made of the wonder fabric, viscosa, in (shudder) size 52! Size notwithstanding, said skirt remains my largest (!) souvenir of a romantic memory, made in Italy!

We enjoyed a divine evening (I think every evening in Venice is divine—what a beautiful city!), anticipating the next day’s activities with only some unease. Was this really happening? How much would it cost? No one would tell us; we only knew that we hoped our costs would not live up to the horrors of the rates in the stories we had read on the Internet.

The following morning, we arrived half an hour before our scheduled appointment. For those thirty minutes we sat in a small chapel within the great cathedral, pondering the seriousness of our commitment to each other and the possibility of this entire situation becoming a fiasco, a sham, a disaster—yes, we were nervous. Then, as we stood before a small altar and lit candles in honor of the occasion, our friend the caretaker arrived to escort us to a still smaller side chapel, where we were to proceed with the ceremony.

To our surprise, a good number of people were crowded into this little chapel—they were expecting us! We were led along a fine red carpet to the first pew, and seated, a lovely red pillow and silver tray–for the rings—on the balustrade before us. A kindly looking priest introduced himself as Signor Sacerdote Sambione. He proceeded to lead a one hour mass just for us. We re-exchanged our rings, and repeated the vows, and experienced the romantic thrill of a lifetime–all in Italian, with a little Spanish thrown in for good measure.

When the mass ended, the people in the chapel, our new family, shook our hands, hugged us and congratulated us. We exited the church in a haze of celebrity, as tourists gawked and the neighborhood hailed us. (Even the hotelier at the Monte Carlo, where we were staying, had been informed of our wedding.) In the end, the priest and the caretaker refused compensation for the marriage ceremony, and would only accept our contribution to the continued upkeep of the Basilica.

We spent the remainder of the day touring the rest of Venice. What a fine anecdote to regale our folks at home, we agreed!

Snow Bunnies, take heed!

People love to play in the snow, that's no secret. The estimated 60,000 of you who chose to head to Frazier Park last weekend proves that!

This weekend, when those of you who decide to pack up the sleds and head for Mt. Pinos, please park safely off the road an enjoy yourselves in public areas only. When it comes time to head home, please remember to pack out what you pack in. Let's leave our National Forest pristine and clean for the next family who wants to come play in the snow.

For those not familiar, Pine Mountain Club is a private community and there are no public playground facilities. All roads and adjacent land is privately owned, so please respect the residents and be sure you are on public land before sledding and snow play. The local Patrol and Property Owners' Association is diligent in maintaining that trespassers will be asked to leave. If you are not certain if a particular property is private, it's better to find another area to play just to be safe.

All of you snow bunnies, bundle up, have fun, and most of all, be safe.

Root on the Renegades with a Trip on the BC Rooter Bus!

Travel in style with the rowdiest bunch of football fans around and cheer on the Bakersfield College Renegades football team!

Bakersfield College’s Alumni Association will be sponsoring a bus trip to the final football game of the regular season against College of the Canyons on Saturday, November 14. Game time is 7 p.m., and the bus will leave from Bakersfield College’s Haley and Panorama parking lot at 4:30 p.m. and return immediately following the game.

Cost for the bus trip is $25 per person and does not include food or beverages. Riders may feel free to bring their own refreshments. Seats are available for 55 passengers, but are open on a first come, first served basis.

Call the Bakersfield College Alumni Association office at 395-4619 or alumna Sally Hill at 322-3175 to RSVP. You can also reserve your spot by taking your $25 to the Bakersfield College Foundation Office at Bakersfield College in the Administration Building, office A-19.

Last chance! Take a Quick Home-cation!!

Summer is winding down. Cash is running low. But there are so many things you can do with these last few weeks of vacation!

You can have a home-cation right here in Bakersfield. Get a hotel for a night, and pretend you are on vacation. Relax at the pool, order room service, go to a restaurant you’ve never visited. Visit a museum, like CALM, KernCountyMuseum, or the Bakersfield Museum of Art. Watch a Blaze baseball game, or go to the Speedway. Go to a local spa (there are so many good ones now) and get the works! If you want some recommendations, I’m happy to share. When you get home, you will feel refreshed, without the travel expenses!

Or, there are great places to go within a couple of hours that are relatively cheap. Head to one of the local Indian gambling casinos and pretend you're a high roller! Rent a boat and go to a local, or nearby lake for the day. Drive to Mountain Home State Forest, near Porterville. Camping there is free, so take a break from the heat and enjoy the peaceful, giant sequoias. Sequoia National Park is just another hour or so away. It isn’t free, but it also has access to stores and showers, so it’s worth the money, and still relatively cheap. There are many locations near the Kern River to camp, which are fun, cheap (or free), and nearby. And, you can always take a little drive out to Pismo Beach. All of your neighbors can’t be wrong! It’s a fun, relatively inexpensive place to camp and play.

If you’re up to a longer drive, don’t forget about LA, Santa Barbara, Solvang, San Diego, Santa Monica, Vegas, Sacramento, and Lake Tahoe. They are all 1-7 hours away, so they are do-able over a long weekend.

Or grab a few friends and head over to wine country. You can travel around in a bus, taste wine, and crash at your hotel. You might be a little more subdued the next morning as you drive home, but happy with your purchases!

On the third Sunday of every month there are motorcycle races at Willow Springs, near Lancaster. It’s usually about $10, and there are sometimes other car races at the same time. It’s pretty exciting to see all of the talent we have in the area! Then you can stay in Tehachapi to relax before you head home, or head south for some more fun!

And, if you're willing to spend a little more money, but don't want to travel very far, try Rankin Ranch near Caliente. It's a cool little dude ranch with lots and lots of activities for the kids and adults.

Whatever you do, don't let this summer end with a fizzle! Have some fun!!

Highway 33: One Day Bike Tour of the California Ojai Music Festival 2009

Perhaps the world has heard extensively of the Ojai Music Festival, June 11-14 2009, where vacationers from around the globe enjoy both classical and contemporary concerts under the stars at the Bowl in Libbey Park. This year it is advisable to come as you are, but on a bicycle trip fifteen miles up the modern bike path from an inexpensive, beach motel in Ventura.

As the lyrics to the Missing Persons advised so well, “Nobody Walks in L.A!”. Instead consider the added value of the bicycle to the vacation getaway to Ojai. From LAX the Flyaway service will goes to Van Nuys and from there catch the Metrolink train directly into Ventura next to the fairgrounds (around $17 per person). Three blocks away is the less pricey choice of the Travelers Beach Inn, or immediate area is the famous Crowne Plaza Hotel (as low as $410 per weekend with room service).

For the first afternoon consider a shopping trip to the Pacific View Mall on Gold Coast Transit (Line 6 South) along Main Street. The California Pizza Kitchen has a brand new, health conscious menu that is really memorable, and if you need a “Virgin”, how about the new virgin Mojito (soda water, mint and cilantro). This will cost only about thirty dollars for a quick lunch. Any contemporary beach attire is guaranteed to impress at the concert. An O Neil “pirate” tee may be purchased for around twenty dollars.

Choice cocktails or afternoon refreshment are also available in the Aloha Restaurant across from the Crown Plaza. A lovely dining room is moderately priced, and the staff is extremely helpful with their new menu.

The next morning begins with a bicycle rental agreement on the beach nearby. The Ventura to Ojai Bike Path begins near the California Highway 33. The goal is to get to Libbey Bowl in Ojai, about fifteen miles north from the beach for the day.

The Avenue (as Ventura Avenue North is affectionately referred to) begins along the colorful old part of Ventura. One of the newly restored buildings the venerable, community outreach church called “The Fountain of Life Apostolic Church.” This group has had much success in community outreach services ministering to homeless and the victims of addiction in Ventura. Services are commonly held on weekday nights in addition to Sunday service.

Located one half mile north on the Avenue is Stanley Avenue which runs east-west. The Path runs at first through an industrial area of Ventura containing the graveyards of an industrial might of the past. The path slowly steepens as it climbs toward Ojai, but the freeway is always right in the area too.

A lovely side trip from Foster Park can be taken along Santa Ana Road. Foster Park is a good lunchtime rest stop with nearby, clean restrooms. Perhaps even better is the view of the lake from the Lake Casitas Recreation Area. The lake is currently running about 80% of capacity which is considered good for the current drought condition. Views of sky, clouds, and grassy meadows full of fattened cattle are beyond belief.

Back on the Ventura to Ojai bike path the trail steepens still further but meanders enjoyably from left to right between beautifully, soft mountainous terrain. Ultimately the path levels out about Bryant Street and suddenly it is Ojai. Here the path is so inviting that it becomes crowded with pilgrims. The bicyclist must be served first even when it comes to pedestrians and runners.

The Ojai Library Friends and Foundation operates a postcard perfect “Twice Told Tales” used bookstore on East Ojai Avenue. Here is another fine place to become involved in local community lore and find out what is happening that day. Please don’t expect a lot however. According to William Shakespeare, “Life is as tedious as a twice told tale.”

But without the noble preparatory efforts of the Friends of the Library the new Ojai Art Center and Museum would be in jeopardy. This is the hub of the local art community, and is a perfect complement to the summer music festival.

Before the music begins tonight, a light appetizer and cocktail will be enjoyed at the Deer Lodge located at 2261 Maricopa Highway which is actually the same as Highway 33. The road climbs fourteen miles up to the mountain pass through to the San Joaquin Valley. It is said this was the best part of the Highway, and it is “boring” after that.

The dinner menu offered Ambush Appetizers featuring Jack Daniels BBQ sauce. The pork ribs were served in a sizzling skillet smothered with the same. Another good choice was the double stuffed chili relleno with chipotle cream sauce and one more “Red Stripe.” The dimly lit barroom withstood the stern gaze of a huge black stuffed ostrich overhead and a brightly lit five foot diameter fireplace nearby.

Ventura Yellow Cab can be brought to bear after your concert event. The return trip is like a fast and furious night scene in “Bullet” (20 minutes) and costs about $40.

"Ten Must See Spots in Oxnard/Port Hueneme Marina District"

“Ten Must See Spots in Oxnard/Port Hueneme Marina District”

*Port of Hueneme Harbor Tour

*Spudnuts Donuts

*Duffy Central Coast Marina

*24 Hour Fitness

*Seabridge Marketplace I and II (Restaurants): Anaba Restaurant, Coffee Bean

*ARCO AM/PM (bicycle services)

*Victoria Avenue Fruit and Bicycle Tour

*Moqueca Brazilian Cuisine

*Old Dublin Irish Pub

*Vagabond Inn Oxnard

The newly renovated Oxnard/Port Hueneme Marina District is only six miles down Victoria Avenue south of the 101 Freeway. The Channel Islands Harbor (free parking) will begin the start of a short family day trip to Oxnard, California.

Although the largest employer in the area is the U.S. Naval Construction Battalion Center, those hard working men and women on the base rarely intrude on this luxurious marina neighborhood right next door. The busy Port of Hueneme (Oxnard Harbor District) shines with ample deliveries of fresh pineapples, BMW’s and Jaguar’s. Free port tours are available for groups of less than twenty at a time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in the Port’s own tour bus.

Tall ships often anchor leisurely on the weekend while their crew dines on succulent fresh seafood or mountainous portions of barbeque fare. Free parking is adjacent and can be used for the whole day. For breakfast, the smiling staff at Spudnuts in the Fisherman’s wharf will heat up an unglazed buttermilk bar to have with mellow coffee beverages ($5). Local beach citizens are discussing the weekend ahead in the open, relaxed atmosphere.

The first leg of the journey is by bicycle to the newest shopping mall one mile north called the Seabridge Marketplace I and II (also free parking). To get to there a good one-speed beach bicycle is completely correct because of the flat ride and ample bike lanes available throughout Oxnard.

Seabridge’s finest restaurant is the sweetly, picturesque and friendly Anaba Japanese Restaurant order shrimp tempura and a small vegetable roll of sushi. A little sake is quickly provided. You could also take out a generous but light to-go lunch on the fountain area of the Marketplace overlooking the marina below.

The water anchorage below the fountain plaza at Seabridge stays smooth until a sudden gust appears almost out of nowhere to add a challenge to the local day sailor. Prior to any marina rental voyage, local weather conditions must be obtained at the Central Coast Duffy Marina. Cost for a nice two to three hour trip with up to ten passengers can be $85.00 per hour on the Duffy Electric (a update on the old Venetian style gondola so favored over the years by Hollywood producers). The Duffy Electric is easy to pilot, but the wheel duty cannot be transferred due to the limitations of the rental agreement. The shallow draft does not allow for travel outside of the breakwater.

After the Duffy is safely returned to the rental dock your bicycle drive up Harbor Blvd. will now continue. This is the most interesting part of the bicycle ride. Imagine five fruit stands by the roadside in five miles! The Victoria path is well planned and generously paved with hard shoulder also available because of the farm activity alongside the road. The bike bridge over the Santa Clara River is on the northbound side of the auto bridge. The return trip was quicker because of the lesser number of fruit stand stops.

For your relaxation pleasure look for the sporty, luxurious new 24 Hour Family Fitness Center located in Seabridge II Marketplace. The family can apply for a short term membership adults over eighteen and children over twelve can be arranged by the sales manager. A lovely clean shower on the marina is available for a cool down prior to dinner.

Just as the sun is nearing the horizon the family can watch the spectacular show from the dining room at Moqueca – Brazilian Cuisine (located in the newly renovated Oxnard/Port Hueneme Marina District. This family owned operation has recently been completely redecorated by local artisans. The drink menu features Brazilian cocktails made with “Leblon” Cachaqa and many varieties of juices and apertitifs (one cocktail is enough for two). A family style meal is prepared – “Moqueca de Lagosta” – with rice and pirao (fish stock thickened with yucca flour). The price for four is about ninety dollars.

Now there is just time before sunset for one last look at paradise all within a one hour drive of Los Angeles. A bike ride back to the car at Spudnuts along the Port Hueneme/Oxnard Marina is the last leg of the one day bike trip along the Victoria Fruit Highway. The path is all concrete, newly renovated and wide enough for the whole family to ride together.

Have the children tired by now? Perhaps it would be wise to check into the local Vagabond Inn on Oxnard Blvd. for the return travel in the A.M. The rooms with the king mattress and fold-away couch are $71.00 for two adults and two children. After the children are asleep, wander back to Old Dublin Irish Pub for a nightcap at the Port Hueneme/Oxnard Marina to recount the lovely events of the day together.

www.portofhueneme.org

www.anacapaisle.com

www.duffyboats.com

www.24hourfitness.com

The Gurus, the Young Man, and Elder Paisios

I just finished a magnificent book. It is titled The Gurus, the Young Man, and Elder Paisios

www.stherman.com/Catalog/Elder_Paisios/guru_book. htm

It is the gripping and true story of a young man and his search for the truth. Like many people, the young man was a product of a secular environment and in his search for true spirituality; he encountered many bizarre people who were peddling many strange philosophies. However, he was blessed to have met Elder Paisios of the Holy Mountain. A true Holy man and modern Saint. Although he was instructed in the Christian Faith by a Saint. The young man traveled to India to compare Orthodox Christianity and its faithful to yogis and their devotees. I will finish the discription here because, I do not spoil the enjoyment of future readers. However, I would like to share this part were the young man experiences for himself the allure of darkness, and the blessing of the Light. Enjoy;)

One day, sometime after my experience with “my friend” ( the demon that was possessing him that Elder Paisios exorcised ) in the elders yard, I asked the elder about the yogis. By that time, I had become convinced that the yogis worked in cooperation with demons – but I couldn’t understand how it was possible for anyone to make such a choice. “Elder, I just can’t understand why they would want to be evil men. They are intelligent, educated people with many abilities. They don’t have any reason to be evil.” The elder looked at me and shook his head, but didn’t say anything. Shortly afterwards, as planned, I left the Holy Mountain ( Mt. Athos the monastic republic in Greece) in order to be with my family for Pascha ( Easter ) which we would spend in my childhood home of Florina, to which my parents had returned in their retirement.

& nbsp; One afternoon at the beginning of Holy Week ( the week preceding Orthodox Easter ), having made a stop in Thessaloniki, I was by myself in our home there, when, suddenly, my surroundings vanished. There were no images to be seen, sounds to be heard, or objects to be touched. My five senses had ceased functioning. It was as though the light switch had been flicked and the room plunged into total darkness.

& nbsp; My mind turned its full attention to a spiritual realm that it found utterly riveting and captivating. In one direction, I saw a soft but intense light – brilliant but gentle. In the other direction, I saw a thick, cavernous darkness. Initially, I turned my attention towards the awesome, yet fearful, darkness. It made my flesh crawl, but I was overcome by curiosity, the desire to understand what it was. My mind advanced towards the darkness. It had vast power and, if I dare put it this way, a certain grandeur. It represented a negative perspective on reality, unhesitatingly extending into reality as depth, even as the light stretched infinitely into reality as height. On one side , there was immense love; on the other immense hatred. The light was overflowing with unconditional altruism, while the darkness pulled away in utter self-centeredness.

& nbsp; Though I couldn’t see into the darkness, I could feel the presence of souls in it, leaping about, and shrieking with insane, wicked laughter as they were pulled deeper and deeper into the ocean of darkness, until the sound of their voices disappeared altogether. Frightened by this savage madness, I headed towards the light, seeking it’s protection. Just reaching its outskirts, I felt the relief of having been rescued from a grave danger.

& nbsp; Although I didn’t advance very far at all into the darkness, I was able to feel the depths of its evil ocean. I could understand the very essence of the enticing power of sin to tempt, as well as its laughable powerlessness, utter dependence, and shadowy nonexistence. The darkness, I saw, is fearsome when it has won you over, but it is absurd and feeble when you reject it --- it can not defeat even a small child if he does not fall on his own. In the same way I didn’t advance far into the light --- only so to speak, skating its edge --- but even there I felt confident and comforted by a fullness of life, peace, joy, and knowledge. The light loved me greatly in spite of my unworthiness and granted me its gifts I never dreamed existed. At this point, I realized that the light created the world and every living being. The existential space in which each person dwells is itself a creation fashioned by the light, which also fills and permeates these spaces. On being decided to stay outside of the existential space created by the light, thus creating a sort of space for itself, though only by denying the light, turning from it, and driving it away. The darkness has no existence of its own, but only denies the ever-existing and sovereign light. That is to say, the existence of darkness would have been impossible without the existence of the light; though the light had no need of the darkness for existence, for its existence is self-sufficient. The light respected the free decision of its creation to reject it, and so kept its distance. In this way, a dark existential space made its appearance---the darkness, in this sense became a reality.

& nbsp; The darkness resulted from the inclination of a conscious being, called Satan, who chose such a form of existence though he had no reason to. And this denial made the darkness a reality. Although this act of denial may have resembled God’s act of creation, it was not creation, but an imitation of creation performed in reverse. That is the devil tried to behave like God, but, since he did not have the ability to create on his own, he was capable of only denying God’s creation, energies, light, and grace. He pulled away from the very borders of reality and made non-existence a way of being, thus “creating” death and darkness, but all things are filled with light and life.

& nbsp; Just as the light ‘s love wishes to unite all things, being the source of existence and creation, so the hatred of the darkness wants to divide all things, being the source of nonexistence and destruction. Just as the light extends out into infinite beyond, so the darkness seems to extend into its infinite beyond. Just as there is a grandeur about the simple, yet infinite light of God, with all His attributes and energies, so there is a certain grandeur about the blunt, yet apparently infinite darkness of the devil, with all his deep- rooted and ferocious self-destructiveness, full of stubborn and manic rage.

& nbsp; Having come to such realization, I found myself as with a flip of a switch, surrounded again by familiar sights and sounds of my room. Within a matter of minutes, I had a lesson of immeasurable depth. It was not only a revelation beyond word, of subtle differences of profound meaning and great importance, but also --- and even more --- a test and a trial of the deepest inclinations and intentions of my heart, to see whom I would follow and who I would leave behind. Fortunately, although my heart initially moved towards the darkness, it ultimately found repose in the light --- and fortunately, the light still accepted me.

& nbsp; This experience taught me that, just as God surpasses the human mind, so do His works, His creations, and His gifts. On its own, the human mind can only acquire a relative idea about these realities, producing hypothesis, conjectures, opinions, and imaginary presuppositions to justify its views. However aided by the grace of the Holy Spirit, it can begin to fathom these mysteries.

& nbsp; I also received from this experience a deep appreciation of the mystery of human and angelic freedom, a divine gift beyond human understanding. My experience of light and dark helped me to grasp the fact that God endowed angels and men with free will so that they could move independently, freely and without compulsion in the moral sphere. The elder once told me. “God would forgive the devil if he would just say one ‘Lord have mercy.’ There’s a dear old monk near here who used to pray for the devil, because he felt compassion for him. After all the devil was one of god’s creatures --- in fact, he was an archangel before he fell into such a sorry state. While the elder was praying for him, the evil one appeared in the corner and started to make fun of him. The devil is unrepentant.” He concluded. As I would learn latter, this elder was actually Father Paisios. & nbsp;

Entitlement and Travel in N.E. Bakersfield

Everyone is entitled. That would be a Constitution right, except people seem to have forgotten, you are entitled to your rights, as long as it doesn't infringe on another person's rights. Auburn and Oswald is an arena of individual entitlements. DMV regulations are routinely ignored and in one instance, a driver has determined that making a left-hand turn onto a T-intersection, gives her the supreme right away. Maybe God spoke to her. Drivers leave the parking lots of Starbucks or Carl's, then proceed straight across Auburn and block all traffic, until someone lets them in the left hand turn lane onto Oswald. This says they have priority over all the drivers patiently waiting their turn. The rule "You don't enter an intersection controlled by lights unless it's clear," is disregarded, as drivers plow into the intersection, preventing other drivers from legally entering. Red light runners are rampant. There are alternative ways to get through safely and sanely. These people seem intent on doing their way, and do not consider going around the block, Turn North on Oswald and make a u-turn at the left turn lane. Instead of forcing their way across Auburn, they too, can turn right, go down the street until you can safely make a u-turn. The city could make a killing daily at that intersection. A camera would videotape the comedy of the entitled self-righteous citizens in NE Bakersfield.

I WAS AT NYC'S CARTER HOTEL "#1 Dirtiest hotel"

TRAVEL NIGHTMARE: “No. 1 Dirtiest hotel”

Carter Hotel, New York City: I arrived at this hotel Easter Thursday 2 years ago on a school bus with 30 high school choral singers and 5 chaperones. My two Norfolk, Va. high school granddaughters and my daughter, their mother, had invited me to be one of the chaperones on this Easter week trip. The group had been invited to sing in Philadelphia, Wash, DC and New York City. In an effort to make this trip economically possible the travel agent had booked us into the Carter Hotel in NYC. our last stop, for 2 nights. It was a good location near the theaters, to which we had tickets to two Broadway shows and the Hard Rock Café where we had dinner reservations.

As our bus parked in front of the hotel we noticed two NYPD cars parked in front, lights flashing. We all traipsed into the lobby and immediately noticed this hotel was not up to the standards of the previous two nights. We all sat around the lobby while the our director/teacher checked us in. The lobby sofas and chairs were broken down and stained.... several overflowing ash trays and spilled remnants of drinks on the tables. The entire lobby needed a good cleaning and vacuuming We all looked at each other with the knowing look of “Let’s not touch anything we don’t have to”. There were a few business men in less than spiffy suits and some foreign travelers. As I sat surveying the lobby I noticed several rolls of carpeting at the back of the lobby. I tried to reassure some of the more finicky girls that we would probably get one of the re-done rooms. Teacher distributed our keys and we joined a couple of unsavory characters in the elevator going up to the 5th floor.

As we exited the we noticed the yellow police tape blocking one hallway. Our rooms were the other way. Upon opening the flimsy door with a loose lock we saw cockroaches scurrying into the corners. There were two sagging beds covered with sheets, no blankets, two flat pillows and barely enough room to move around. And no, we didn’t get assigned any of the newly redecorated rooms.!!

About that time we heard screaming from our girls down the hall . . . more roaches in the bath and un flushed toilets. Our skin was crawling at the thought of spending two nights in this seedy hotel with dirty showers, filthy toilets, dingy towels, drink & cigarette stained furniture and sagging beds. I had recently read that about 90% of NY hotels have bed bugs and the probability of taking then home with you is definitely something to consider. Immediately I had the girls in my group get their luggage off the floor and onto a table or luggage racks where they would be less likely to get invaded.

Most of our group was in the hallway unwilling to go into their assigned rooms. I went down the hall to find our director hoping we could negotiate for better rooms when a policeman advised me to send the children back to their rooms. They were getting ready to bring out the body. Yes, now we understood all the yellow tape and police cars outside. We heard later it was an overdose.

Teacher quickly called our bus driver to come back for us. As quickly as possible we got the kids back down to the lobby and out onto the sidewalk to wait for the safe haven of our bus. Teacher had to threaten a law suit. She got a full refund.

Now, we are in New York City, the Thursday afternoon before Easter, 4:00 and we have no hotel. Our bus is parked in front of the Carter Hotel and we have no where to take these 30 young people.

We needed 17 or 18 rooms ASAP! We sat on that bus parked in the street for at least an hour calling every New York hotel we could think of. Our young people practiced singing their songs.

Apparently many bus drivers, after dropping their groups off, go through Lincoln Tunnel to the first exit where there is a large bus parking lot. Across the street is a hotel . . . our driver thought was the Crowne Plaza. We could try.

YES! they had enough rooms. We could come over immediately and check in.

And what a beauty it was! With gleaming marble floors, comfy sofas, fresh flower arrangements and a sparkling clean breakfast room.

I’m sure these kids had never appreciated a clean bed and bath so much.

And now they have a travel tale to tell, or should I say travel nightmare?

Traveling to Tikal

Tikal has been described as the “archeological equivalent of shock and awe”. It is one of the largest and most impressive of all the Mayan ruins, and is especially intriguing because it was lost in the jungle for over 800 years! Today, the excavated tops of six of the Mayan temples at Tikal can be seen above the jungle tree tops. When first seen, they are very impressive almost straight vertical temple pyramids. Temple IV is the tallest at 212 feet high, which was the largest structure in the Western hemisphere at the time. Climbing up to the top of these temples is quite a feat, but is worth it for the view of the jungle and the rest of the site, only 15% of which has been cleared of the dirt, trees, and brush that had hidden the site for so many years. Tikal was begun in 200 B.C. and was mysteriously abandoned in 900 A.D. At one time, almost 100,000 people lived around these temples, as Tikal, located at the Northern end of Guatemala, was the center of the Mayan civilization that stretched from Mexico to Honduras.

When visiting Tikal, it would be a shame to miss out on a visit to the highlands of Guatemala, where the Mayan descendants still dress in the fashion of the past. For example, in Santiago on Lake Atitlan, where we stayed at the Posada de Santiago, the men wore white culottes with red stripes, a white shirt with sash, and what amounted to a “cowboy hat”. The women wore hand woven long skirts with generally purple blouses embroidered fancifully. This dress style was not worn by just a few, but was pervasive throughout the village. In other villages, the style was the same, but the colors of the outfits were different according to some decree by the Spanish colonizers that would allow them to distinguish villagers by the colors they wore. It was interesting to see the mode of transportation generally taken by all. First, there were many people just walking down the road. Second, in the larger towns there were tuk-tuks, which are three wheeled, motorized “taxis”. Less expensive, no doubt, were the pickup trucks with a raised bar in the truck bed which allowed people to hang onto the bar as they were driven down the road to work or other, standing in the truck bed, generally crowded together. Finally, for long distances there were the gaily painted “chicken buses”, which apparently had many a previous life as school buses. In the morning and the evening, the pickup trucks transported men and boys into the hillsides to pick coffee beans. The other work we saw was men, women, and children gathering wood for heat and cooking. The consequence of all this wood burning is that the air is often thick with smoke and it can be difficult to breathe. Imagine if you had to live inside with all that smoke, all your life.

Another place to visit in Guatemala is Antigua, which is a Spanish colonial city, complete with cobblestones and Spanish language schools for tourists. There are several active volcanos nearby, so we decided to climb one along with a guided group. Pacaya volcano was a fairly strenuous hike for us, but the views are amazing. We hiked right up to the lava fields where lava was coming out in fiery chunks that came crashing down the hill toward us. That was almost a little too exciting!

An interesting cultural side note is that the curious blend of Mayan religion with the Catholic religion is slowly being replaced by a rising number of new Evangelical Christian churches.

Cruise rule No. 1: Don’t miss boat

There are few things I enjoy more in this world than taking a relaxing cruise. I really don’t care where the ship is going. The ship, for the most part, is the destination.
There are a few simple rules that pertain to cruising, and they all pale in comparison to the first rule, “Don’t miss the boat!” It is such a big deal, it is a cliche and for good reason!
You are not flying Southwest Air, where they have a flight every hour. This is old-school travel.
Recently, we booked a three-day cruise out of L.A. Harbor. I broke rule No. 1 and I’m still paying for it.
As we sat in unusually bad gridlock, I called the convenient assistance phone number in my cruise packet. I pleaded my case to Royal Caribbean to please hold the ship for me, but alas, it was to no avail. The ship was going to leave on time and they were not going to be swayed by my sob story.
I can’t adequately put into words how agonizing it is to sit on the 405, stuck in traffic with six other people in the car all hollering, “Can’t you go any faster?” Which, of course I can’t.
When we finally did reach the Los Angeles Cruise Center, we got to wave goodbye to our ship, sailing off into the sunset without us. Bummer!
Our wonderful prepaid vacation has left without us. To avoid a land mutiny, I tell the family, “It’s really not a big deal; we’ll just pick up the ship in the next port.”
Now is when the real torture begins!
The nice lady on the cruise assistance line informed me that if I did venture down to Ensenada, Mexico, to meet the ship I would have to clear Mexican Customs and that would really be difficult.
I thought if I’m going down, I might as well go down in flames! So after an uneventful night at the Comfort Inn in Carson, off we headed to the Mexican border on a hope and a prayer.
The next morning, we drove down the 5 to the last U.S. exit before Mexico. (That’s exactly what the sign says.)
So we left the Suburban in a parking lot, which I was sure I would find stripped upon my return, and walked into Mexico with all of our giant suitcases that my wife, daughters and their friends had packed for the cruise. Needless to say, I felt a little conspicuous, so I thought about blending in with the locals by wearing a poncho being sold by a nearby vender embroidered with “Dodgers” on the front.
My wife successfully negotiated cab fare in a bright yellow Suburban to Ensenada for $75. Not bad when you consider there were seven of us. Just one problem: There were only two rows of seats — room for six — so I sat in the back with the luggage. Apparently, there is no seat-belt law in Baja California.
An hour and a half of riding backward in the cargo bay, and we arrived at the ship. I felt like an accordion when I crawled out over the tailgate.
Thank goodness for our driver, he knew every Mexican official in Ensenada and how to motivate them on a Saturday afternoon. Surprisingly, the tough part was getting Royal Caribbean to let us on board. We had to wait for the captain to give the go-ahead for us to board.
So we made the best of what was left of our cruise. I tried to make it up to my family by booking another three-day cruise with Royal Caribbean, but they no longer do the short cruises out of Los Angeles, so we booked Carnival Cruise Lines.
We gave ourselves plenty of time to get there. Carnival has its own cruise center, next to the Queen Mary, so getting on board was a breeze and everyone had a wonderful trip.
(For an inexpensive family vacation, try a three- or four-day Carnival cruise out of Los Angeles. Big cabins and excellent food.)
Did you wonder what happened to our car we left at the border? Well, it didn’t get stripped, but I did have to hire a driver to take me from the ship in L.A. to the Mexican border. We also discovered, if you keep going past the pay-to-park lot, there is a giant outlet mall complete with a Neiman Marcus clearance center and many other great outlet stores.
Lesson learned. Give yourself plenty of time to leisurely board the ship.
Jim Darling is a Bakersfield native who enjoys traveling and writing about his experiences.

Boat Trip

My wife (Alma) and I booked a five day cruise to Cabo San Lucas Mexico, just to get away for a little while, to meet new people and see new things. So we boarded the ship and guess who we got to meet ? Yep, you guessed it four hundred Bakersfield citizens and we all had a great time.

We got to meet the featured musical group called the Majestics who also live in Bakersfield. In Cabo we met a little four year old girl, that was sitting on a rope fence who's name is also Alma, here are some pictures of both Almas and some sunsets.

Taft oilworker monument making progress

The building of an Oilworker Monument in Taft, which was initiated in 2006, is making progress.

A new sign has been installed marking the spot where the monument will stand along the Rails to Trails Walking Path east of 6th Street.

A committee has interviewed four artists and have at this time narrowed the field to three and will soon select one of the three to design and sculpt a bronze monument honoring oil workers.

The Oilworker Monument Committee continues fund raising by selling plaques and bricks and soliciting donations from companies. It is essential to raise funds now so that construction may begin in early 2009. The Oilworker Monument is scheduled to be unveiled in 2010 during the Oildorado Celebration and to mark Taft's 100th anniversary.

Those wishing to become an everlasting part of this monument may do so by purchasing a plaque, brick or making a donation. For more information, please contact the Taft Chamber of Commerce at 765-2165.

A PLAQUE OR BRICK WOULD MAKE A VERY NICE CHRISTMAS GIFT.

The East meets the West

Record-sized Red Pargo

This record sized Pargo was caught by Bakersfield fisherman Chip Wickline 61 on October 4th at Las Arenas near La Paz Mexico.

It was caught on a whole 2 Lb. Bonita on 30 pound test line fishing near shore with Captain Archangel on the gaff.

It was four feet in length and weighed 50 pounds and was quite the topic of discussion by all the skippers down there as they have not seen one this size caught for a long time.

Chip has fished in Mexico for over thirty eight years and has landed most species but this elusive one tops the list.

He was fishing with his buddies from Bakersfield, Bob Pair who caught many Dorado, Jorge delToro, who caught a 200 Pound Blue Marlin and Dave Peterson who also caught a Marlin.

Mojave Gold Rush Days set for Saturday

Gold Rush Days will be held Friday, Sept. 12 and Saturday, Sept. 13, in Mojave, beginning with a free Skate Party from 5 to 7 p.m. at Mojave Park. Sponsored by the Mojave Four Square Church, free sno-cones and refreshments will be provided.
Saturday morning the Gold Rush Parade will form beginning at 9 a.m. at the corner of Belshaw and K Street and the parade will proceed South on K Street at 10 a.m. with Bill & Billye Deaver serving as Grand Marshals.
All community organizations, churches, veteran groups, equestrian entries, community queens, businesses and individuals of all ages are encouraged to participate in the parade. Trophies for first and second place will be awarded in the park at 1 p.m. Call 661.816.3497 for parade application. All Gold Rush applications are available at the Mojave Desert Bank.
Food and merchandise booths will be located in the park and an Art & Photography Show will be positioned in the Vet's Building. Call 661.824.2481 for an application for your business in the park or for entry form for Art Show, space is limited.
A special attraction to celebrate the 132nd anniversary of Southern Pacific founding Mojave will be an appearance by the 7 1⁄2 gauge Kern County Live Steamers outdoor railroad. Rides will be available for the public.
Mojave Elks will host a dance featuring the music of the Honky Tonk Truckers at the lodge beginning at 8 p.m.
The dance will be preceded by a TriTip barbecue from 5 to 7:30 p.m. Charge for the dance is $3 per person or $5 per couple. The barbecue is $8 per person.

Who are the grand marshals?
Long-time Mojave residents Bill and Billye Deaver are the grand marshals of the 2008 Mojave Gold Rush Days parade.
The Deavers came to Mojave — separately — in 1948, Bill with his parents and Billye with her sister, whose husband was in the Air Force at Edwards.
During those early years, Billye lived in one of the Quonset Huts that provided housing for local military personnel at the Mojave Marine Corps Air Station.
“When the wind blew, we had to clean the dirt off the beds, the roofs leaked so badly,” Billye recalls. She worked for many years at Reno’s Restaurant and for the Bank of America and Mojave Desert Bank, and helped run the Mojave Desert News in the early 1980s.
Married in 1961 in San Jose, the couple have been active in the community over the years — including the 12 years they spent in Washington,. D.C., from 1982 to 1994, where they both worked for Members of Congress representing California.
“We kept on eye on issues affecting Mojave,” Bill Deaver recalls.
While in the nation’s capitol, Bill served as a political appointee in the administrations of presidents Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, at the Federal Railroad Administration, Occupational Safety and Health Administration, and the Treasury Dept.
Billye served on the staffs of Congressmen Norm Shumway and David Dreier, while Bill was administrative assistant to Congressman Chip Pashayan.
In Mojave, Bill served as constable, public safety communications dispatcher, court administrator and, with Billye, published this newspaper from 1979 to 1982. He is currently editor and publisher of the paper.
He is president of the Mojave Community Medical Center, Kern Transportation Foundation, and Edwards Community Alliance, and serves on the boards of the Chamber of Commerce and Mojave Transportation Museum Foundation.
“Everywhere we have gone around the U.S. and in Europe, we have found people who know about Mojave and the exciting things that happen here,” the Deavers say. “That — and the great people we work with throughout this region — is the reason we continue to make Mojave our home.”

Involuntary Dogslaughter

I killed a dog on my way to work last Friday. No, I am not bragging, I am confessing. In truth, the death of this unknown dog haunts me so terribly that it has taken a week for me to be able to write about it. I have never hit a dog or cat on the road before. I used to think that was because I am a good driver, but now I know that I was only lucky. I hope I never do it again.

I have made the commute from Tehachapi to Bako and back on the 58 freeway for years without incident, and I guess I have come to expect only the expected. The dog was decidedly unexpected, especially since it seemed to appear in a remote area, far from the city. It was a golden-sandy color, medium sized. I could not ascertain the breed, but I suspect it was just a doggy-dog, which is my name for a mixed breed or "mutt". The only thing I really know about it is that it was a really fast runner, it was lucky once, and then unlucky forever. Oh, yeah...I also know that it is dead.

The guy in the car ahead of me and to my left missed the dog by milliseconds, but the reason that I hit it is because the other guy missed it. Since the dog was in front of the other car, I never saw it until I watched it go under the front of my brand new car. Almost immediately my car began steaming and producing a horrid banging sound, indicative that the fan and the radiatior had just made contact with each other. I did not really notice, though; my eyes were glued to the rear-view mirror in horror and remorse. I finally pulled over about a mile down the road, and by the time I called my husband, I was nearly hysterical. My mind was filled with the image of the poor dog in my rear-view; I could not stop replaying that awful vision. But by the time my car was being towed to the shop, I was no longer crying; I was livid. What-ifs played over and again in my head; first, it was "what if I hadn't stopped at the bakery on the way to work?" Then, it was "what if I had been watching the other car more closely?" But what I finally ended with, and still stick to, is "what if some moron had not allowed that poor dog to run loose?" and "what if a nameless jerk had not abandoned their pet to the fields?" By the time I heard from my mechanic that my new car needed major front end repair, I was ready to string up the stupid, thoughtless idiot who had left that dog to his own devices. While I feel terrible about being the one to hit the dog in the road, it was only a matter of time. If not I, then someone else would have killed it, and all because of someone else's callous treatment of an innocent pet.

One good thing happened just after I hit the dog. As I sat weeping in my car on the shoulder of the road, a CHP officer pulled up next to me. Usually, CHP's on the freeway are an unwelcome sight, but I was glad to see this one. He asked me if I was okay; I tearfully told him about the dog. He asked again if I was okay, and I told him about my car, and that I was waiting for a tow truck. And then, I finally told him that I was fine, but I asked if he had seen the dog. He hadn't, but he promised to take care of it, and advised that I keep my car doors locked until the truck arrived. He said that he would make a few passes in the area to make sure I was alright. Then he pulled away and made an immediate u-turn in the median, returning to the place where the dog's life had ended. The officer was as good as his word; I saw him four times before the tow truck arrived. Less than ten minutes after he stopped next to me, I saw an Animal Control van heading east on the 58. When I finally went home later that day, I looked for the dog, just in case. It was gone.I felt better knowing that, thanks to the thoughtful officer, the poor animal would not end up as road pizza.

What will it take for people to care for their pets properly, humanely and kindly? What can be done to stop those who decide that a pet is too much of a burden and dump it on the roadside or in a field somewhere? How can we pound home the realization that letting a pet run amok is neglect, and that neglect is a form of abuse? Pets are happiest and healthiest if they are kept in a safe environment; they are not wild animals that "have a need to run free". When we adopt a pet, we have a responsibility to that animal for it's life and health. Pets are not disposable.

I still don't have my car back. I will, however, get it back eventually. The dog will never get its life back. He will live on in my memory, however. I wish we had met under different circumstances. Maybe we'd have been friends.

Open Forum Travel Film Series

Bakersfield Adult School will open its fall program of the Open Forum Travel Film Series on Tuesday, October 7th at Bakersfield High School - Harvey Auditorium.

All showings are from 3:30 to 7:30 p.m.

Films are suitable for all ages and there is no admission charge.

Programs include:

Bob DeLoss - "Headwaters of the Amazon," Oct. 7th. Bob DeLoss begins his tour of the upper Amazon in the city of Lima, Peru. From there he goes to Iquitos, where the river broadens to 2 1/2 miles in width. Bob shows us the culture of different Indian tribes - the Yagua and the Jivaro (who specialize in shrunken heads).The film offers an expansive and in-depth view of this fascinating area of the Western Hemisphere.

Rick Ray - "The Soul of Morocco," Oct. 14th. Rick Ray offers his new film on Morocco. He covers all of Morocco, including the eternal Sahara, markets with their fruits, tapestries, and mint tea; artisans working in mosaics or brass; silk slippers and Fragrant spices; Kasbahs and ancient desert palaces, and high tech mosques with laser beams pointing to Mecca.

Tom Sterling - "Bhutan, The Cloud Kingdom," Oct. 21st. Tom Sterling transports the viewer to an unusual site or region to the last independent Buddhist Kingdom, Bhutan. The kingdom was founded in 747 by an Indian saint. From the start, it sought isolation from the outside world. Up to the later part of the 20th century, it was largely an unknown land, filled with myth and legend. Now it faces the problem of how to preserve its gentle Buddhist culture from the effects of modern technology like television. Sterling's film shows the unique culture, but also captures the spectacular landscapes, the lush rainforests, the glorious monasteries, the quaint villages and the wildlfie unique to the Himalayas.

Motorcycle riders: How much are your lives worth?

With the rising cost of fuel, I have noticed more motorcycles on the road than I have in my 31 years of riding. I have also seen a lot of riders in shorts, flip flops, T-shirts, no gloves, and so on. This is where my story begins ...

On Oct. 5, 2005, I was riding with my husband and friends to San Luis Obispo via Highway 58. We were cruising along at a comfortable speed, when my husband looked in his rear view mirror and saw me and my bike flying in the air. I don’t remember the accident, but I was airlifted to Kern Medical Center where I began a two-month-plus stay, six weeks of which I was in a drug-induced coma because of my extensive injuries. I punctured my lungs, lacerated 85 percent of my liver, shattered my right shoulder, dislocated and fractured my left collarbone, broke multiple ribs and have bilateral frontal lobe brain damage. While in the hospital I contracted a serious infection and pneumonia.

On Dec. 9, I came home with an IV and antibiotics for the next six weeks. In March 2006, I started vigorous physical therapy to learn to walk again and get my strength back. Last year, I began my surgical journey to repair. I had five surgeries in 2007, and two more in May of this year after I got another infection. I still have weekly therapy for pain relief.

I started riding again last year as a passenger with my husband. I was nervous at first, but now I look forward to the peace I feel when I ride.

I wanted to share my story because I believe my rider education contributed to me still being alive, along with the wonderful staff at Kern Medical Center.

How much is your life worth? I realize it’s hot here and sometimes it’s just not convenient to dress for a ride. Before I ride, I put on jeans, boots, a long-sleeved shirt, gloves, chaps and a jacket. Most of all, I wear a full face helmet.

Proper preparation requires more than just attire. Did you take your medications, eat and take along a lot of water? Cool scarves will keep you hydrated while riding. Stop and take breaks to stretch those weary legs and arms. It’s also good to keep current on experienced rider classes, CPR and first aid.

Had I not been dressed and trained properly, I probably would not be here today. I have scars on my knees from the road rash that I sustained through my jeans and chaps. Imagine if I had been wearing shorts ...

Please take the time to educate yourself so you can ride safely. The Gold Wing Road Riders Association’s Web site offers information on experienced rider classes. At gwrra.org, under regional operations, choose region F. From “district links” click on California and choose “Local ERC Locations.”

The GWRRA district rally will be in Bakersfield at the Doubletree Hotel this weekend, Aug. 29-31. We will have seminars, skills games and lots of information. Please join us, because I care.

Reminder: This article is only MY story and MY personal opinion, just be safe and enjoy the ride.

Vancouver Vacation

A beach, where there was water just 6 hours ago. This photo was taken by Tom & Debbie Teofilo of Kernville, while vacationing this summer at the Tigh-Na-Mara Resort, Craig Bay Beach, Vancouver Island, Canada.

Germany

Cochem, Germany: A great wine town on the Mosel river.

The Barcelona Chronicles - Part III

Park Guell

There is nothing like a park bench to contemplate life upon. It has seen, felt, and heard the plans of men and women, old and young. Everything from a first kiss to a lonely tear drop of a widow feeding pigeons, life occurs on a park bench. I suppose that is why I am so fond of them. Of all the tourist spots in Barcelona, none did I visit as frequently as Park Guell.

A wonderland of mosaic tile and shapes from a dream sequence which can only be appropriately designated as the result of some form of excessive intake. Be it wine or clams, a dream sequence born of excessiveness. They say, though, that Gaudi was eccentric. In that, I found a certain amount of humor in the design of the park and yet, a certain amount of charm as well.

The park bench on the upper tier of the park seemed to run for at least two to three hundred yards. It weaved around the edge of the upper tier letting those who attempted to find respite in it, overlook Gaudi’s barrage of columns below and catch a bird’s eye view of everyone perusing the top tier.

You could always find several vendors up there. The ice cream vendors were a given, the woman in black selling silk scarves, a treat. Her lips wrinkled inward, her ankles pudgy and stuffed into uncomfortable, but practical, shoes. There was nothing spectacular about her except the way she displayed her scarves. I can not think of too many occasions were a scarf is necessary in the Mediterranean, even if it is silk. But she had a way of waving them just so, it was truly captivating. Held out with her right hand and then flicked upwards to catch the breeze. The breeze pulled it out and splayed it in the sun. The sun caught the gold and silver threads and flashed brilliance. The brilliance was such that an old and plain woman made her wares the most drop dead sexy and titillating accessory known to anyone with a pulse. I own a few of her scarves.

But, back to the bench. I always liked to consider Gaudi’s tiled bench the epitome of narcissistic art. It really is a beautiful bench and quite comfortable for being made out of cement and plaster. You feel overpowered to just sit for hours. And yet, as time ticks on, you really start to think that passers-by are looking at you, not the bench. Hence, the narcissism.

Artists would paint from the bench, writers would write from the bench, and musicians would compose from the bench. All art forms were represented. I was attempting to write the great American novel from this bench. The writing was rubbish, the memories were fond.

I was stuck on a paragraph about love one afternoon when I heard a commotion below me on the bottom level. I leaned over and saw a wedding party. A sun kissed Spanish bride with soft brown hair. Both hair and skin accentuated by the high afternoon sun and a white woven and beaded silk gown. Princess style, of course. The browns of her eyes held a fervor only a perfectionist bride could know. Something had gone wrong. She was upset at her photographer. Her groom stood a foot away with his hands in his pockets.

She saw me staring down at her and smiled at me as if she was a goddess of light and beauty; she shouted to me in Spanish, “Take my picture!” I had not even realized I held my camera in my hand as it dangled over the terrace. I did. She then turned to the photographer, “See, that’s what I want. Go up there and take my picture.” She and her groom played peek-a-boo with the roman columns, racing between shadows and light, and the photographer took several pictures. She was happy and I finished my paragraph about love. How it was fleeting and imperfect, darting between shadows and light.

Even now, the memory makes me yearn for a park bench. To see life again from a bird’s eye. To sit down while the world goes by, contemplating the perfect moment to get back up and rejoin the masses. Or, I could just go play with my scarves.

The Barcelona Chronicles - Part II

Apartment in the Ghetto

I found the place online and the price was right. Too right. The pictures showed a clean and quaint little studio apartment. The price could mean only one of two things. Either the landlords, in a cooperative effort with some fair housing for poor students initiative, kept the rent at a below average rate or, it was a clean and quaint apartment in a crummy area. I decided to take it anyway. How bad could the area be? Surely Barcelona could not have its Compton comparable area. I was sure I had seen worse in a line at Magic Mountain than anything I could find in Barcelona.

My new landlord insisted he pick me up at the airport; and although my suitcase was bigger than his car, I was grateful for the ride. The first time I caught a glimpse that something was afoul was when my landlord had wild and darting eyes once he told me we were only a block away from the apartment. For a fifty-five year old man, I was plumb shocked at how quickly he managed to unload my bags and lock us inside the apartment for my tour.

He gave me the run down of the apartment. “Bed here, fresh sheets there, TV doesn’t work but you wouldn’t understand it anyway, bathroom, kitchen, and this is your washer/dryer/dishwasher.”

It was a small machine that only looked like a washing machine. “No!” I said in disbelief.

“Yes.” He reiterated.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nah….” Still in disbelief.

“Yes, okay.” He said firmly.

I still don’t know if it actually did all three. I was not going to try. I washed my clothes in it, hung them dry and did my dishes by hand.

He stood by the doorway and prepared himself to leave. “There is one more thing. Ah, first…thank you for paying in full up front. I really appreciate that. Ah, second, try not to go out after sunset. It’s a bad area and bad things could happen to you. So vulnerable, so young, so alone. I would feel horrible if something happened to you. Ah, so make sure you have lots of fun in Barcelona but make sure you are home before dusk. And if you are out after dark, then make sure you don’t walk home. Take a taxi. Most won’t come out here, but take one anyway. Thank you, good-bye.”

I spent my first evening double latching the front door, pushing the armoire in front of the porch door and curling up reconnecting my communication line with God. My landlord was right though, no taxi would come that way. For fear of being robbed. The few times I stayed out after dark, I was dropped off at the barrier of the ghetto by my taxi driver and was forced to make the one mile trek to my front door alone. One time, I even resorted to barking while walking. I was willing to try anything. But, for the most part, I did all my sightseeing in the daylight and rediscovered why it is important to be comfortable with oneself when all one has until dawn is…oneself.

The potential for a mugging in that neighborhood was no joke. I, luckily, survived unscathed. Although, as alluded to earlier, I could not even count on one hand the times I was walking home after dusk. A fellow student in my building, however, was not so lucky. Despite the fact I warned my building co-occupier we should forego the end of the Sangria party to arrive home in safety, he told me that I should lighten up and enjoy myself. The next morning when I came knocking on his door to walk to the subway together, he finally opened the door with a swollen and red face, wearing the same clothes he had on the night prior. His left back pocket was ripped off and dangled by a few threads from his pants. He had been jumped, mugged, and punched by seven men when he finally came home at three in the morning. They had taken his wallet and, regrettably, his sense of security. He moved out the next day.

The next chapter is Park Guell. A world famous park designed by Barcelona’s beloved artist, Antonio Gaudi. A place where I habitually watched the world go by.

The Barcelona Chronicles - Part I

I am at the point in my life where I neither feel young nor old. I know I have opponents in the field who say I should still very much consider myself young.

But enough whipper snappers have referred to me as ma’am, and thus, I have accepted my fate as being older than the young even if I’m not older than the old. At any rate, it recently occurred to me my mind feels quite like a rubber band. Sometimes it stretches to great lengths, and other times it contracts and I ask complete strangers what the date is several times over in the course of a single day. Today it is stretching. Stretching back to a time which seems so very long ago, yet it has not even been ten years. However, it was before marriage and before children. So as you can see, it was a very, very long time ago.

I was preparing to sign up for the summer semester following my second year of law school when I had come across a flyer in the library. It advertised a semester abroad in one of several countries over the summer break. My attention was truly peaked because I had already done a semester abroad in Florence, Italy during my sophomore year in college. Oh, to go to Europe again. I had to at least make an inquiry. It turned out that taking two summer classes at the University of San Diego during the summer would cost double the amount of taking three summer classes abroad. That cost included my tuition, renting an apartment, the flight over there, spending money, and still paying the rent on my apartment in La Jolla since I did not want to lose it for the next school year. Half the cost and an experience of a lifetime? It was a fortuitous thing I already had a passport.

I chose Barcelona, Spain for reasons I am still not sure of. I suppose I cannot escape the fact that the Mediterranean calls out for me…it is in my bloodline. I remember telling my father, both while I was there and once I arrived back home, I did not care for Barcelona. My reasons were juvenile. I suppose I wanted to see something quaint, a picture which had manifested itself from a young girl’s expectations. Barcelona was big, bustling, and dirty. That is what I told him.

But now I can see that those opinions were formed in the journey, not the destination. The journey from my apartment to the cathedral was dismal but I adored the cathedral. The journey from the university to the park was frightening but I adored the park. Maybe it is collective blocking, but I hardly remember the journeying anymore. I simply see the destinations. And oh, what destinations they were.

To feel the pulse of Barcelona is to taste it with your eyes. I can hardly envision standing on the gold and course sand of the Costa Brava without tasting the salty air of the Mediterranean in my mouth. I can’t remember an outdoor café without tasting olive oil and freshly crushed tomatoes making a natural symphony of flavor in my mouth. And Sangria, oh Sangria…. Every time I make it in the comfort of my own home I remember the dark pit of a tavern where my lips were first introduced to its amazing flavor; how I still taste the wet wood my hand carved goblet was made from as it held the dark and sweet substance I am still so fond of.

Humor me as I retell my experiences of Barcelona in these chronicles. Part one was my introduction. Part two will be my apartment in the ghetto.

Sights in San Diego

These pictures were taken aboard the Ranger 85 during my fishing trip on July 20.

HOW TO SURVIVE MEXICO WITH JUST ONE SHOT GUN SHELL & A TIRE GAUGE...

My friend (Henry Gonzales) has enjoyed nature and taking pictures of nature for the last thirty years. One day while getting ready to take some pictures of humming birds feeding while flying, Henry's wife (Alma) came out from cleaning the garage & hands him a shotgun shell and two tire gauges, so he puts them in a outside pocket of his camera case, to dispose of later. That was about six years ago. I have told you that story so I could tell you this story.

Henry's wife (Alma) wanted him to go to Zihuatanejo, Mexico, a town featured in the movie, Shaw Shank Redemption. Henry is not one that enjoys travel as his job as an Insurance adjuster kept him on the road for years, but in deference to his wife and sister-in-law, he went. They flew out of LAX to a Ixtapa/Zihuatanejo Airport. This is the first time Henry has ever been on an airplane. So they are on the plane, in the air to Zihuatanejo.When the plane levels off, he asks his wife to change seats with him so he could take some pictures out of the window and in the process of changing seats, he noticed a shotgun shell and something metalic in the seat.

Henry said, he never thought of not saying anything. He immediately called the Flight Attendant and advised her of what he found. By her reaction was it was no big deal, and that seemed true until they landed, then the Captain tells everyone to remain seated because the Federales want to check the plane. That's when the interrogation starts. Everyone has to stay in the airplane, except for Henry and Alma. They take them to an isolated room and the Federales began to appear out of nowhere, armed with automatic weapons strapped to their sides and in their hands. It would have made the Terminator jealous.

They began to grill him, telling him that this is not America, this is Mexico, and you are not allowed to carry shotgun shells! He told them it was not his, & that it was in the seat, he just reported it. Now they search everybody again, scan all of their luggage again, there were thirteen family members in all. Then they grab Henry's camera case and what falls out? A tire gauge! It wasn't until this moment that Henry remembered that shotgun shell of six years ago, Henry said.

By then, it was to late to confess. It would have only made the situation worse and by now Alma was crying. Henry said, "Why they did not catch this at LAX, I don't know. All LAX questioned me about was how big my tube of toothpaste was. I should have told them that it was just a little bigger than my shotgun shell but shorter than my tire gauges."

Anyway, they finally let them go with a stern warning not to bring any more shotgun shells or tire gauges to Mexico. Henry was going to point out that the gauges were made in Mexico, but he said, Alma stopped him. They asked him where he going to stay and when he was leaving, so he could not completely relax. Henry thought that at any time they could bust in and shake him down or worse. He also thought that he might be given a bad time when it was time to leave. They had already made it clear that this was not America. Henry did stay, thanks to his wife, he said, and "I did enjoy the scenery and being with my family and I got some great pictures, take a look..."

Vacation in Belize, Central America

May 2008, my husband and I got to visit Heaven on Earth. It is the most beautiful tropical place that I have ever seen. The place I am speaking of is Belize, Central America, and we stayed on one of the small islands adjacent to the coastline, Amergris Caye (pronounced key). This Caye is known world wide as a Dive destination due to the Second Largest Reef on Earth, second only to the Great Barrier Reef close to Australia. The Reef in Belize is 185 miles long, parallel to Belizean coastline, which is in the Caribbean. Although we are not Divers, we do love to snorkel. We snorkeled several places along the reef, during our week long vacation. It is easy to say that in ONE two hour snorkel trip I got to see with my own eyes, more beautiful, colorful tropical fish and marine life than in all my years combined. The snorkeling was outstanding!

Ambergris Caye moves at a much slower paced life. Tourism is the ony real trade so most people are very friendly, speaking English and happy to help in any way. The residents don't drive cars, they use Golf Carts, or bicycles. There are a few cars, but almost all of these are taxis, shuttling tourists here and there. Quite a bit of travel around the island is done by boat, and each resort, hotel, restaurant, bar, or dive shop has it's own dock, where launches or water taxis can conveniently convey passengers and cargo.

We stayed at a small resort on the northern end of the Caye, away from the town and it was even more slow paced. Each resort on this end of the Caye has it's own dock and just in case you may have to wait a few minutes for your water taxi, there is a bench and at least one hammock, under a giant palm frond covered Palappa. This sight just makes me feel relaxed looking at it, and it causes me to take a deep breath and just sigh. It was the most relaxing vacation that I have ever experienced, and hopefully we will be returning in the future.

Traveling Business-Class Blues

Re: Letter to the Editor – “Steps to keep ExpressJet”

The local businessman that recently made an impassioned plea to keep a regional airline from pulling out of town, suggesting certain steps the carrier might take in order to maintain service between Bakersfield and other regional hubs, must not realize that he’s witnessing the demise of the commercial airline industry.

He seems to think that the airline is leaving because ridership is down or taxes are too high – he suggested waiving the terminal and landing fees for a year – a reaction similar to implementing a temporary suspension of the federal gas tax in order to alleviate skyrocketing fuel prices (nice try Hillary, even you don’t believe this will actually work – neither do the voters, ha ha).

I imagine him on bended knee – he writes, “Please ExpressJet, give this thing just a little more time” à la Ike Turner to Tina – begging the energy gods for a few more years of abundance.

Sorry folks, no amount of genuflection will keep us driving, flying, and living large like we are used to, even for “business fliers, city and county officials, state legislators, congressmen, their staffs,” fat cats, billionaires, and any other underprivileged segments of our population that need every financial break they can get, and can’t imagine a world in which their every whim and fancy is not immediately realized.

In fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing a few of those legislators and county officials actually utilizing the public transportation system that they have, in their infinite wisdom, failed to develop adequately, which, along with their laissez-faire attitudes toward real estate development, resulted in the abomination which is mile after mile of 2,500 square foot homes forming living arrangements that have no plan B (what do you mean there’s gasoline available at any price???!!!), also known as the City of Bakersfield (life as it should be…)

Furthermore, this deluded, entitled mindset is a threat to real progress in the early days of this national energy emergency because rallying resources to preserve the status quo will ultimately prove to be futile and will misdirect those resources from projects that actually can help our society cope with oil scarcity – projects such as regional and local rail development along with increased funding for alternative energy projects (e.g. nuclear, solar, and wind power).

I suggest the letter writer grow wings or take the GET bus.

See original letter below:

ExpressJet is our only non-stop flight to Sacramento and San Diego. Besides business fliers, like myself, ExpressJet is the best and only realistic means of transportation for our city and county officials, state legislators, congressmen, their staffs, as well as our college, university and other local officials.

Using other airlines to get to Sacramento can take seven to nine hours one-way and cost $75 to $200 more than an Express Jet flight. Driving to Sacramento takes a horrible, time-wasting five-plus hours one way.

ExpressJet offers a great product and already has an established ridership in Bakersfield. This is a huge opportunity for our community to "jet ahead" as a player in California's bigger picture.

Before allowing ExpressJet to totally pull out of the Bakersfield airport, please consider these options:

* Temporarily discontinue the Saturday and Sunday flights, while preserving the workweek schedule as it currently stands. The Monday flight to Sacramento is always full.

* Encourage ExpressJet to raise its round-trip prices by $50 to $75 in order to recoup costs. Because they are really the only game in town, I absolutely believe that folks will still frequent their service; especially if they know this is the only way to maintain this vital connection.

* Waive or greatly reduce the airport terminal and landing fees for a period of one year.

Please, ExpressJet, give this thing just a little more time.

This really would seem to be a relatively easy business decision for the City of Bakersfield. Without a direct flight to and from these two major urban centers, our business advantage will shrink.

CHUCK ADKINS

Bakersfield

The Grand Canyon: Rim to rim in one day

So you want to hike the Grand Canyon rim to rim in a day?
That was a question I heard echoed over and over. Then the second question was “WHY” and “ARE YOU CRAZY”? My usual response would be “WHY NOT”. At this point I could tell you the health benefits of hiking; relieves stress, improves heart and lung capacity, improves overall body composition and endurance etc. That's what most of my friends would expect me to say because I'm a health fitness consultant/personal trainer.
My response was different this time. I was so excited to share, that a rather “eclectic” group of people had expressed a desire to hike the Grand Canyon. We contacted Allen Newsom; a semi retired contractor and seven time hiker of the rim to rim (25 miles) for training advice. The rest is history.
What do a lawyer, insurance administrator, financial advisor, homemaker/volunteer, production manager, court reporter, building contractor, business woman/philanthropist, and personal trainer have in common? A real desire to hike the Grand Canyon! Last September, we began our journey. We had our first meeting with Allen laying out the training strategies, to begin in January. Lodging at both the North and South rims were secured in September.
Before our feet hit the trail, Allen instructed us in appropriate shoes, clothing, nutrition, and hydration. Of course foot comfort and fanny packs were the biggest issue for all of us. During the 16 week training regimen some of us purchased more than one pair of hiking shoes, after nursing blisters and toe nail loss. He also educated us in the variety of weather he has encountered at the Grand Canyon. “We could start our hike in the morning at 25 degrees and snowing, land at the bottom of the Canyon at 105 degrees, and even encounter rain and wind”.
Our first training hike was 7.5 miles in the Kern Canyon on the Richbar Loop Trail. Allen believes that we are fortunate to have the Kern Canyon at our doorstep. “It is a perfect place to train for the Grand Canyon. Its terrain is very similar and is equally as challenging”.
Keep in mind some participants had not been on a fitness program previously. Cary Blue 36, court reporter and mother of two daughters experienced the difficulty of the first hike. Her fitness level improved significantly. Over the next few months we prepared for the adventure.
Just like a marathoner, we gradually built up our distance. The next training hikes in February were 10-12 miles which included the Richbar Loop to Cow Flat Road and down Big Al's Grade. In March and April we started the really hard and long hikes of 15 miles with steeper elevations such as Mill Creek and Lightner's Peak.
I mean steep, no switch backs, 8 hours long. We would receive emails from Allen that would prepare us for the following Saturdays hike.
Here's an example: “This hike is our 8th week of our training schedule. This hike will gauge if you are ready for the Rim to Rim hike. IF YOU HAVE A HARD TIME WITH THIS, IF YOU CANNOT COMPLETE THIS HIKE, THEN YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THE RIM TO RIM. YOU EITHER NEED TO START TRAINING HARDER AND GET IN BETTER SHAPE OR RECONSIDER YOUR PLAN TO JOIN “!
The month of May ushered in a long 20 mile hike and then we tapered to the events date of Thursday, May 22. Our group started with about 15 and had been reduced to 9. We were ready mentally and physically!
May 22nd had arrived. It was just as he said it could be, “cold and snowing”. We began our hike after group pictures and goodbyes to loved ones at 5:30 a.m. at the North Rim, 8250 feet. As we began our descent into the abyss our excitement of what was to be over shadowed the physical test ahead.
With the morning skies just opening before us and lighting our path, we began to see and feel the enormity of this most beautiful place in North America. Marty Neumann, 40, production manager for Frito Lay remarked, “Walt Disney got his ideas from the very deep red walls, hundreds of feet tall, lined with stacked rock and the man made carved Supai Tunnel. It could be a set design for many areas that you see in Disneyland”!
As we continued our descent we began to warm up to the blue skies with the sun outlining the ostentatious cliffs. As we continued down Roaring Springs on the North Kaibab Trail, we saw nature repeated over and over again with a deliberate show of plants and trees that none of us expected.
“I thought the Canyon would be more arid like”, added Tom Mestmaker 60, insurance administrator. There were ample bathrooms and drinking water along the way which we took advantage of. Lunch was at Phantom Ranch, elevation 2400 feet, roughly the bottom.
With 9.8 miles to go the weather turned cold, rainy, and windy! “We should be thankful that we did not have the 100+ degree heat that you can experience, reminded Allen”.
After lunch we crossed the Colorado River on a suspension bridge and continued on to the Bright Angel Trail. “From one trail to another, from one mile to another, nature did not repeat itself. There was always another vista unfolding before our eyes” remarked Jeff Mestmaker 25, financial advisor.
Soon we were at Indian Gardens Campground, elevation 3800 feet with 4.6 miles to go. “O'K this is where the training hits the trail, said Neumann, “We're soon to start into Jacobs Ladder and climb to 6860 feet. There will be lots of switch backs with very steep inclines. This will be your hardest part of this 25 mile hike”.
As we hiked, we continually looked back to see where we had come from. That view kept many of us going, one foot in front of the other. “We were definitely well trained. The end was steep, it was hard, and at times, mentally I thought it would be hard to finish, said Barbara Grimm Marshall, 55, business woman/philanthropist. “We have all become quite a team, each helping the other, offering encouragement and sometimes an extra hand to make a step”.
After 13 hours, we ascended the top of the South Rim and were met with cheers from our loved ones. “This was one of the most meaningful experiences in my life”, said Ralph Wyatt 58, lawyer, “This was always something I wanted to accomplish”.
Deb Roney 57, housewife/volunteer added “that she experienced some fear of the impending hike but Psalm 121 put those fears at bay. “I lift up my eyes to the hill - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…” “The spectacular beauty of the Grand Canyon revealed His creative hand”, said Roney.
At age 58, I'm thankful for my health which allowed me to take this journey. For me, this was an incredible accomplishment. This wonderful “eclectic” group, combined with the beauty of the Grand Canyon touched my heart in a special way and left an indelible memory.

About the author: Diana Mestmaker, is a wife and mother and owns a personal training business. She has 33 years experience in the fitness business and is certified through the American College of Sports Medicine, National Strength and Coaching Association, and Aerobics Fitness Association of America.

Kona Grill ... A Desert Paradise

If it were true that, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” I would have to keep praise for the Kona Grill to myself. That, however would be to deny you the dream of experiencing what I can say without hesitation, was one of the most delightful meals of my life.

The occasion... the annual birthday weekend spent with friends who live amidst the glitz and glam of Nevada's desert. As always, the husbands strove to top the previous year's celebration. They couldn't have made a better choice.

The Kona Grill, located at 750 S. Rampart Blvd., is tucked into the eclectic Fashion Village at Boca Park. The tone on tone stone exterior is dramatic and impressive, but pales the moment you step inside. The richness of dark wood, granite and massive glass aquariums teeming with tropical fish, are softened by the graceful curves of the dining room. Reservations, a must for this popular spot, allowed us a wait free seating. Our elevated booth gave us a clear view of the dining room and the romantic lighting made for an intimate setting.

Service was prompt and professional, attentive without hovering and a visit from the manager as he walked the room brought extra points from this Customer Relations Manager. In preparation for our visit, we had perused the web site's menu http://www.konagrill.com and were ready to begin our much anticipated meal.

We started with a celebratory cocktail, Jade Tea, similar to Long Island Iced Tea, with the refreshing addition of melon liqueur. We chose two appetizers, Avocado Egg Rolls, served with a honey-cilantro sauce and Diablo Shrimp, jumbo prawns with a kick of fiery spices and a refreshing Bleu Cheese dip.

For our entrées, we selected the Baked Sea Bass and the Five-Spice Baby Back Ribs. The bass was prepared in a miso-sake marinade which gave the ample portion a wonderful, buttery flavor. Complimenting the fish were sides of shrimp-pork fried rice with little jewels of pineapple and tender Szechwan beans. The ribs, which overflowed the large oval plate, held up very well to the ample seasoning and were fork-tender, making them easy to share.

The only downside, was that they were out of Key Lime Pie, my first choice for dessert. At the recommendation of our server, we chose to indulge in the Passion Fruit Crème Bruelee. At first glance, it appeared to be a traditional bruelee, however it was infused with an amazing fruit flavor. The caramelized sugar crust was crunchy, without any hint of being over done and the tender berries used for garnish were a crowning touch.

Kona Grill is a treasure not to be found West of Nevada, so the next time you are planning a trip to Las Vegas, factor in this fine dining adventure. You won't be disappointed.

For more information, visit the Kona Grill web site at http://www.konagrill.com

Isle of Ponza

My Best Shot: Isle of Ponza - I shot this scene while hydrofoiling into the Isle of Ponza harbor. Ponza is a five-mile long volcanic rock island in the Mediterranean sea some 30 miles off the coast of Naples, Italy. Its inhabitants are closely related and this remote island is known for its fishing, scuba diving and blue grottos.

I traveled Italy and Sicily last June and specifically visited this island - a "dream come true!"

Hot Air Ballooning over Sedona

This shot was taken last fall, while flying in a hot air balloon over Sedona, Az. Flight lasted about a little over an hour, from launch to landing, and is worth every dollar - I highly recommend it.

Karate students honored to participate in Japan event

Seven senior ranking members of Bakersfield Fajukan Karate Do and Visalia Karate Club are honored to be participating in the world wide Dai Nippon Butoku Kai Honbu (Greater Japan Martial Virtue Society) sponsored martial arts event in Koyoto, Japan April 25-30, 2008. As many as 600 students of martial arts will be gathering for seminars, programs, teaching, learning, and to demonstrate their skills at the Butokoden, on the very wood floors where Samurai trained many years ago. The structure is considered hallowed ground by many. This will be only the third time this event has taken place, the last being six years ago.

Participants will perform kata (organized forms of blocks, strikes and kicks), and bunki (demonstrated application of kata moves) before an audience of as many as 3000 people , which will include members of the Japanese royal family, as well as other important dignitaries from around the world.

The D.N.B.K. is a black belt organization encompassing many different styles of martial arts within its members. Black belt is a senior level of accomplishment within each form. Masters of old considered black belt a starting point for the real study of martial arts. There are many advanced degrees of proficiency within the black belt level. Karate is often a lifetime quest for learning and understanding, not only a physical achievement, but mental and spiritual as well.

The word karate means empty hand, describing a method of self defense which uses body, mind, and spirit. Japanese words are used to name the many different blocks, strikes, kicks, stances and commands. A number of different styles have developed throughout history. The Bakersfield Fajukan Karate Do is under the leadership of Sensees Robert DaLessio, 4th Dan and John Shatto, 2nd Dan. The Visalia Karate Club is under the leadership of Sensee Dan Taylor, 6th Dan. Accompanying them on this once-in-a -lifetime opportunity will be Brandon Wainwright, Greg Raider, Christian Rader, Ilea Jackson and Chris Duarte.

While in Japan, participants will be touring Koyto, one of Japan's oldest cities, a place of cultural and historical significance, with a number of buildings, temples and shrines that have survived since the 17th century and earlier. Kyoto means "capitol city", and it thought of as the heart of Japan. The ciry, founded in 794, was at first called Heian. It was the center of government, of learning, and the arts, functioning as the capitol until 1868. It is the only large city in Japan with an abundance of pre World War II buldings. Parts of the motion picture, The Last Samurai, were filmed there.

Flying and Whale Petting Adventure in Baja Sur

One of the best things about Bakersfield is it is a great place to travel from, especially by one's own airplane with good companions who are adventurous as well. We have several great airports locally and a flying community that is growing daily. Our trip had been planned for the better part of a year. I even finished off my Instrument Rating to assure that weather would not prevent our 800 mile flight to Southern Baja for what everyone in our 6-seater Cessna would consider the trip of a lifetime. The instrument rating allows a pilot to fly under Instrument Flight Rules (IFR), allowing flight in clouds and low visibility conditions within the capabilities of the aircraft.

We met at EpicJetCenter at Meadow's Field, the fabulous new facility near the International Terminal. Epic is worth a visit just to see the neat aviation-inspired decor and cool planes in the massive hangar. We all squeezed into our 1978 Cessna Turbo 210 (200 mile per hour SUV) with our maximum allotted 12.3 pounds of baggage each to keep the plane within its 4000 pound gross weight limit. This was especially important as we would be making five landings and take offs on dirt airstrips. Dirt is softer than asphalt and will make our takeoff runs longer and rougher than usual. Every extra pound is an extra foot or two of takeoff run.

March 13th was a beautiful morning with just a few clouds over the mountains that would provide a short burst of IFR as we headed to San Felipe, Baja to pass through Mexican Immigration. We had made two short forays into Mexico in the last year, San Felipe and Puerto Peñasco just to get the hang of going to and from Mexico so this trip would be a breeze. About two hours later we were in San Felipe. Here we waited in lines with many other planes that were part of the Baja Bush Pilots Association that had organized this group trip. We were now on "Mexican Time", so patience was a necessity. My wife, Denise is an "organizer" and self-admitted control freak, so she was already plotting strategies to get us through the bureaucracy faster before we hit the baños.

Pemex fueled us up and with the plane about $400 in cash lighter in fees and fuel, we took off for our next fuel and bio-break stop, Loreto, Baja Sur. Southern Baja is the 31st and last territory to become a MexicanState in 1974. Another two hours of beautiful vistas from 7500 feet made the time pass quickly as we traveled at a ground speed of 230 miles per hour south along the east coast of Baja. Dominating the view was the beautiful blue water of the Sea of Cortez on our left and amazing geologic features caused by the BajaPeninsula tearing away from the mainland of North America and the Pacific Ocean invading the gap this split. Magma worked their way upward through the fractured crust creating volcanoes, lava flows amongst faults offsetting layers of colorful rocks. Northwest trending slivers of continent cleaved by tectonic forces from the peninsula are now desolate islands off the eastern shore.

We passed over our final destination, Mulege about 100 miles north of Loreto. There is no fuel available at Mulege's El Gallilito air strip, hence our landing at Loreto. Fuel and fees including an $8 tower tax went much faster as there was no line and we were back-tracking to Mulege in no time. We also noted Loreto was a beautiful place, worth a trip in the future for us. LoretoInternationalAirport was in the midst of building a beautiful, modern new terminal so it appears that others have discovered this locale north of Cabo as well. Another half hour and six more souls were added to the 134 other flyers at the Hotel El Serenidad of Mulege. As pilots do, there was a group of Dos Equis sipping judges under an umbrella critiquing landing technique as we taxied into our parking spot among the forty or so other planes.

Greeting us was the gregarious Jack McCormick, owner of the Baja Bush Pilots Association. Jack alone would be worth writing a story about but is just one of the many interesting characters we would meet on this four day adventure. Let's just say Jack has a software publishing company but doesn't need to work and can do this flying adventure stuff full-time in his luxurious airplane, a Commander Twin Shrike. Ah, to be Jack. Checking in at the BBPA desk was a breeze, getting handed cocktails and coupons to pay for food, events and stuff.

The cocktails were timed right as the BBPA store was open and shopping would begin immediately. All passengers were briefed pre-cocktail that any purchases adding weight to the plane must be offset by dishing stuff here or losing body weight on this trip. The former was more of a possibility than the latter as were rewarded for our travels with many wonderful meals. We walked up the scenic MulegeRiver two miles into town to experience the wonderful Mexican culture and culinary delights. I have never seen scallops so big. So much for losing weight. The thought of re-weighing my passengers and pilot comes to mind. But then, the tequila takes over and we don't care. Early to bed as tomorrow is another adventure.

We are up before dawn to get in line for breakfast at the Serenidad Restaurant. Wise choice as service is slow but we are the fifth plane off the ground. The Cessna T210 has 310 horsepower and retractable gear so we pass all of our predecessors to land at the remote Laguna San Ignacio Airstrip after crossing the rugged BajaPeninsula to its west coast.

Laguna San Ignacio is an 18 mile long, 4 mile wide bay on the west side of Baja Sur. It is protected from the crashing waves of the pacific by a narrow, shallow inlet. We were given life jackets and walked on the tidal flat knee deep to small outboard engine powered fishing boats called Pangas. The Pangas were about 17 feet in length and could seat nine passengers. They were amazingly stable as we would find out when all nine passengers would shift to one side in unison to pet whales. The tidal flat ended with a drop off to 50 meter deep water per one of our drivers. We rode south for about 30 minutes those on the upwind side getting thoroughly soaked by the wind driven spray. The temperature was about 60 degrees and the water felt about the same but we came prepared so none of us was very cold.

Whales were in view spouting big clouds of water vapor from a great distance. Before we knew it we were having amazing encounters with the mammals that are can be larger than semi trucks. It was a very emotional experience as none of us could imagine seeing up close much less touching these magnificent behemoths. And boy, did they want to be touched. Slapping the water with our hands would attract them to the Panga, babies more likely to make immediate turns to our boat followed closely by Mom who would stay just below or next to baby. My wife, Denise actually started crying when on baby came out of the water, body vertical about 3 feet right into her arms for a long pet. Their skin was smooth and soft like an inner tube filled with urethane foam It was a struggle to coordinate petting with photography. Thank goodness I have a waterproof digital camera. Moms would occasionally come straight at our boat, their size would somehow elicit the emotional response of fear as would a ship’s bow coming directly at the small Panga. But they would come to a smooth halt and almost always exhale a cloud of spray right next to us and sometimes on us (whale humor). Some would receive a pet, others would descend slowly and smoothly below our feet, tail and snout clearly visible on the far sides of the boat. It definitely would get ones heart racing as the flukes alone rivaled the size of our craft.

The personalities of the babies were all unique as are the personalities of dogs and people. Some were friendly, some shy, others were showoffs like our last encounter on the second day where the female would do rolls and show her underside to us over and over. Baby was just having fun if you consider a two thousand-pounder a baby. Great White Sharks this size are fearsome, baby Grays are cute with their perpetual grin. We soon learned that Moms make white water when they move at surface, while the babies didn’t due to the size difference.

Our final night at the hotel was the most fun with the weekly pig roast at the Hotel Serenidad to celebrate how lucky we are to be doing this. The BBPA arranged for a fuel truck on Saturday so we could avoid the trek to Loreto again which allowed us to leave early and head north for home. Every night we were there, we went to sleep earlier and napped more than the previous day; Mexican Time. After fueling in San Felipe again and checking through Customs at Calexico International we were home bound dodging the remainder of the storm that passed through California while we were gone. As we flew through snow showers in the California High Desert bound for Bakersfield, I could smell and feel the soft, cold flakes as they passed through the air vents and landed on my face… remembering why I fly…

Doug Winston

Somthing new: Montana de Oro

I have to say this is my favorite beach to get to. It isn't a surfers or water babbie place to go but if you love to walk on the beach and soak up the sun while enjoying the quiet this is the place for you!

It is away from the crowded spots like Pismo or Morro Bay but just a quick drive back to town.

My family has been going there for years now but unfortunately our great Governor wants to close it due to budget cuts...

We were there last weekend and were graced with a dolphin! I have never seen one there in all the years before, it was awesome.

So if you ever want to just get out of Bakersfield and go for a drive you should think about Montana De Oro.You'll be glad you did.

The park is six miles southwest of Morro bay and seven miles south of Los Osos on Pecho Road.

Will the Poppies bloom this year?

Golden poppies stretching as far as the eye can see is the draw of thousands of visitors to the state’s only Poppy Reserve – the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve, 15101 Lancaster Road, 15 miles west of I-14. After two miserable years of meager showings, the question remains – Will this be the year of golden dreams?

“We can only hope,” says Jean Scott, interpretive specialist with the California Parks system. “We have 1755 acres of the most consistent poppy growing land in the state as well as owl's clover, lupine, goldfield, cream cups and coreopsis. At the end of January, we had over nine inches of rain. Our biggest year for wildflowers was in 2005 when we had 16 inches.”

The question is not only if that was enough rainfall, but if it came at right time. The park people know that in a year of little rain, there’s a meager showing of plants across the sere, desert landscape. Last year, when only one inch of rain fell, the rangers counted only 58 plants – that’s not species -- that’s individual plants.

If you want to see poppies, how can you check before you head out?

Three ways:

1. Call the direct number for wildflower viewing that’s updated as conditions change: 661-724-1180, or

2. Go to the web site: www.parks.ca.gov click on Visit a Park button at the top, choose Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve.

3. On the radio, AM 1610 broadcasts updates and other information about the various parks.

Beginning March 15, the 2,000 square foot Jane S. Pinheiro Interpretive Center at the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve will be open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Named to honor the woman who spearheaded the drive to save the poppy fields, the Center, which is a green building, is built into the hillside. It uses passive solar heating and is designed to reduce the heat from the sun.

Inside the visitor center, which is staffed by volunteers, you’ll find a short orientation video, wildlife and wildflower displays and a gallery of Jane S. Pinheiro’s detailed watercolor paintings framed and donated by the Lancaster Women’s Club. There’s a gift shop that features unique poppy and wildflower-oriented items, books, jewelry and many wonderful items for children. While the Reserve is open year round from sunrise to sunset, the visitor center and activities are only available during the spring.

Guided tours are offered for the duration of the wildflower season. When giving tours, Scott, whose love of the desert came about when she went camping in Joshua Tree National Park during the biggest wildflower bloom of the century, shares her love of the desert.

“Most visitors drive through the desert only thinking of it as dry sand and weeds, but it’s so much more,” Scott said. “It has a very intricate habitat with so many things that survive in this harsh climate. I also love to include the cultural history in my tours such as telling that the land around the Poppy Reserve was originally burned by Native Americans specifically to create a grassland,” said Scott, who graduated with a major in biology from UC Santa Cruz.

On the northwest side of the Park, is a tuff quarry that provided cement for the Owens River Project. Wagon trains stopped at Fairmont Butte, on the northwest side. Many settlers came up to start ranching operations for almond orchards, pear, and dry farming of onions and alfalfa.

“In good years of plentiful wildflower blooms, busloads of wildflower-loving people arrive,” she said. “They come from as far away as Korea, China, Germany, and all over the USA. Senior groups come in droves to enjoy the flowers.”

If you’ve never been to the Poppy Reserve, keep in mind that this is not a tame, well-ordered botanical garden. For the handicapped or those in wheelchairs, there is a shallow grade up to the Center made for wheelchair accessibility. Also, a short section of the path into the field of flowers is paved for wheelchair use.

The able-bodied can trek on eight miles of trails carved through fields of wildflowers that support the lives of small animals and snakes.

If you see a rattler or a Mojave Green snake, what do you do?

Scott says, “If you see a snake, back up slowly. Treat them with respect. They are an important part of the habitat because they control the rodent population.”

Her other suggestions include:

· Come during the week, it’s less crowded.

· Come in the early morning because the wind comes up in the afternoon and poppies close.

· Leave your dogs at home. Dogs are not allowed on the trails. There’s no shaded areas in the parking lot, so don’t plan on leaving your animals in your car.

· Stay on the trails. If not, you’ll be trampling and destroying the plants.

· Bring your own food if you want to use the picnic area. The Center does sell water.

FEES during Wildflower season

Passenger parking is $5 per vehicle, or $4 with seniors (62 and over).
Small busses (9-14 passengers): $50.
Large busses (25 or more passengers): $100.

Tours:
Guided group & school programs may be arranged by calling (661) 942-0662.

DIRECTIONS: Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve, 15101 Lancaster Road.

From I-14, take the Avenue I exit and go west 15 miles. Avenue I becomes Lancaster Road. You’ll see the Reserve is on the right.

From I-5, take Highway 138 east, then go south (right) on 170^th Street West and turn left onto Lancaster Road. The Reserve is on the left.

COME STAY AWHILE

There are two other unique parks that would be well worth your time to visit. ARTHUR B. RIPLEY DESERT WOODLAND, added to the State Parks in 1988, is seven miles west of the Poppy Reserve, on Lancaster Road where 210^th Street would be. Park on the side of the road and enter through the pedestrian walk-through by the park gate. With its dense stands of Joshua and junipers, you’ll get a good idea of what the whole valley looked like before it was altered by humans. The park is rustic. You’ll find only a pit toilet but no running water. It features a picnic table and self-guided nature trail, with information about the desert wildflowers and animals of the Ripley Desert Woodlands. The trail is short with no elevation change. As the only sanctuary for wildlife, you often can spot a lot of animals and birds.

Operating Hours:Sunrise to Sunset. Free
PRIME DESERT WOODLANDS,43201 35th Street West (K-8 & 35th Street West), in Lancaster. This absolute gem of a park is nestled within an urban area. It was established to teach about the local plants and animals. Within the 100 acres, there are more than two miles of trails.

Directions: From I-14, take Avenue K West to 30^th Street. Turn left (south) on

30^th then right on K-8. Operating Hours: 6 a.m. to sunset, seven days a week. Free.

MARK THE DATES

LANCASTER POPPY FESTIVAL, April 19 and 20, 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., at Lancaster City Park, 43011 N. 10th Street West. www.poppyfestival.com

In the past, some50,000 visitors attended the two-day event set in the 55-acre park. This year you can expect American folk music, Cajun, acoustic guitars, Grammy award nominee Lee Ritenour, jazz, magic shows, Jest-in-Time Circus of Fools, Exotic Animal encounter and carnival attractions. The vendors includeArts & Craft, business vendors, Flower & Farmers' Market, non-profits displays and an International Market.Fee: Adults (13-61) $8, Children (6-12)$5, Children (5 & Under) free, Seniors (62+) $5. Parking is across the street from the park on 10^th Street West. Parking and the frequent shuttles to the park entrance are free.

Bonnie D. Stone is the author of San Andreas Ain’t No Fault of Mine, the official guidebook to the Antelope Valley. For restaurants and motels in the area go to www.bonniedstone.com

The Golden Temple

Both myself and my lovely wife judy with our friends Ramoan and Dolly in front of the Golden Temple in april of 2005

Taj Mahal

Both myself and my wife Judy in front of one of the seven wonders of the world.

Half Dome Cable Trail

Half Dome is easily one of the most recognizable rock formations in the United States. It sits on the south side of Yosemite Valley and on the California State quarter, just daring to be climbed. But beware, this day hike will test your fitness, your fear of heights, and your hiking shoes!
    The trail head starts at “Happy Isles” and the Vernal Falls Trail head in Yosemite Valley. The hike will start at 4800 ft. and climb to 8842 ft. elevation. Approximately 17 miles round trip this hike will take 10 to 12 hours and in case you cannot tell, is not for the casual hiker.
   Even if you are in excellent shape or are a “gym rat” I would recommend a couple of training hikes to acclimate yourself to the thin air. Tehachapi Peak is perfect for getting in the proper shape. The trail head is located at Tehachapi Mt. Park.
   Cables are put up the last part of May and taken down in October. They start at the East shoulder of Half Dome and continue to the top. The rock here can be as steep as 45 degrees so they are required. Going up is not bad, but if you have a fear of heights, coming down will be slow going. Bring a hanky because you will be crying all the way. Even if you don’t like heights the hike to the base of Half Dome is incredible. Many people turn around here.
   A few things to take to make your day more enjoyable…
   Water, take ½ to 1 gallon, I took a 2 liter camel pack and 2 water bottles and had none left over.
   Food, high energy light weight, protein bars, trail mix, ect. This hike took me 12 hours, take enough for all day. I would have killed for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
    Clothing, comfortable walking shorts, hat, sunscreen, and light weight poncho. The trail below Vernal Falls is called the “Mist Trail”. You should have excellent hiking shoes and socks, no tennis shoes. If you don’t want to loose toenails give them a trim before you leave.
    It wouldn’t hurt to bring a small camera. Nobody will believe you did it so you will need proof that you made it to the top.
    Last but not least, bring a pair of leather gloves. They will give you a better grip on the cables.
Camping spots are hard to get in the Valley so I stayed the night before and the night after in a motel in Oakhurst, about an hour drive each way. You will be too tired to drive all the way home, trust me.
This is one of the most challenging hikes in Yosemite but you will be rewarded a hundred times over. The scenery is second to none. Vernal Falls and Nevada Falls are beautiful. The view overlooking Yosemite Valley from the top of Half Dome can only be described as surreal; you will not want to leave. I had to promise myself I would return again this summer, so back to the gym I go.

Lone Pine Wonder

Grand Wailea

Fall in the Air

Mist trial,Nevada Falls, Yosemite National Park

Nevada Falls is a 6-mile day hike roundtrip with a total elevation gain of 1840 feet. The trail is well kept and can get rocky at times, but the view is spectacular. Before approaching Nevada Falls you get to Vernal Falls which is just as spectacular.

Fall day trip to Yosemite....

Beautiful scenery on the way to Glacier Point in Yosemite National Park. Days trips to the park are a yearly tradition. It is not as crowded and not as much noise like in the summer. I highly recommend anyone who wants to view the spectacular fall colors to go to the park during the fall.

New York, New York Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas, NV

Sunny day upon the New York city skyline in Las Vegas, NV.

Free travel film series - January & February

Bakersfield Adult School will open its winter Open Forum Travel Film Series on Jan. 22 with Sandy Mortimer's new film, "World of the Maya." In it, she explores the Mayan culture that flourished on the Yucatan Peninsula well before Europeans were aware that the North American continent existed.

Mortimer's film will be followed on Jan. 29 with Clint Denn's film "Inside Ireland," in which he portrays the culture and history of this small, but diverse, country.

The series concludes on Feb. 4 with Rick Ray's film "Jerusalem — Sacred and Profane." Throughout history there have been many holy cities and places of legend. But Jerusalem is the city where it is said that history began, and some believe, where history will end. It is a place of conquerors who believed their stories would last forever, but whose names have long since faded from memory. It is a place of wonders and miracles, which could have been forgotten, but which have been kept alive in faith and ritual.

Ray brings all that to focus in his film. "His"tory is told here, the story of man and the story of God. Somehow Jerusalem has survived to fulfill God's will, to keep history alive. It has been called the City of Peace, the Promised Land, the Holy Land, and the Golden City. But seldom has it lived up to its lofty names and ideals. Ray takes us on a personal journey to explore this most special place, from the City of David to the emergence of the modern state of Israel.

See why Jerusalem is an important center for Muslims, Christians and Jews alike, and explore the inevitable conflicts that have emerged as a result. With the current negotiations following the newly begun talks between Israel and Palestine, the film offers an opportunity to understand better the complexities facing today's negotiators.

Rick Ray, who is a full-time professor of cinema, teaches documentary film at the prestigious Brooks Institute of Photography in Ventura. He has appeared previously on the Forum, most recently with his film "Ten Questions for the Dalai Lama."

All Forum films have two showings, at 3:30 p.m. and at 7:30 p.m., at Bakersfield High School's Harvey Auditorium. There is no admission charge.

"My Best Shot"

Sun setting on May Lake, Yosemite, CA. This photo was taken during a backpacking trip to May Lake. May Lake is 1.5 mile hike one-way. It also offers spectacular views of surrounding peaks, which includes Mt. Hoffman. Mt. Hoffman is 10,855-foot-high and consists of three different peaks.