Mr. R took me on the hike up Squaw "mountain". I started shooting off my mouth about how these aren't mountains by Utah standards. Then I ran out of breath so I stopped. The peaks/mountains are not that high there but the trails go straight up instead of nice gradual switchbacks. I mean it was no Timp, but both hikes were pretty strenuous. I highly recommend them.
Second day I was going to go back to where Squaw is and hike around all the lowland trails, but I didn't find it. Strangely I came across another trail head which turned out to be Camelback. I actually thought this trail was a little more lovely a trail. It had some technical parts though.
There was a decorated Christmas tree on top. Fun and festive.
There was this one guy who was "running" it. He went up and down at least 3 times while I was there.
I took off for San Diego after the hike. It's a nice straight shot to CA from Phoenix. Nothing very eventful. There is this dunes area that I thought was pretty cool when you cross the AZ/CA border. The sun was setting so I didn't get any pics.
San Diego. What do I say. Every time I get back for a visit it's like I never left. I love the freeway systems there. So quick and easy to get everywhere.
I did make it to the beach. I didn't get in though. I didn't take my wetsuit with me. It was chilly. The air, the sand, the water. I'm not usually that weak sauce and if someone had been there encouraging me I would have totally plunged, but I admit it, I wimped out. I did wade though. I had a lovely walk along La Jolla Shores though. The tide was low enough that I could go all the way over to where the tide pools are.
I crossed most of my to do list off. I ate a burrito from Los Alamos in Old Town. Beach. Fish tacos. I did not make it to Little Italy for gelato. Also, I did not go to Tijauana to search for a ceramic surf monkey. Apparently there's a lot of Mexican mafia killings in TJ everyday (all the border towns for that matter) and it was highly suggested I not go. I figured the monkey wasn't worth possible death.
The final item on my list was shenanigans with Doctor B. I don't know what I was doing the two years I lived in San Diego, but apparently I missed the giant turd. There is this sculpture that is supposed to be a wave in honor of some ocean god. Well, if I were the sculptor, I would stay away from water, cause if I were the ocean god, I'd drown this guy for insulting me with a giant doo-doo.
Did I mention it was raining? Pretty hard. So Doc B is all, let's climb it. He climbed it just fine. My shoes slid right off the thing. I did take them off. After B jumped like 40 feet through the air, did a flip and a roll or something (that's how I remember it now), he comes over to help me up. With some hefting, prodding and poking of my posterior, I finally get maybe halfway up. But I'm like spread across the back of this thing and my grip is slipping. I do a lot of dumb things with very little encouragement but I got really scared and started squealing and stuff. I wasn't sure how I was going to get down without completely falling. Doc B to the rescue. Somehow I ended up sitting on his shoulders, at which point I think the squealing resumed, then climbed down his back.
I'll have to get into the climbing gym and improve my climbing skills so next time I'm in the area I can take another crack at the giant ocean turd.
I made it back to Utah in time to get up to my parents for Christmas Eve. All and all a great trip.
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