Lauren has heard every story from my childhood trips to Yosemite. 17 times over. For my birthday this year we decided to add new chapters the mythical canon. Highlights included hiking Vernal Falls. Turning around while hiking Vernal Falls (sadly, the mist trail was closed). Following the river to the Ahwahnee. And the 18th telling of childhood stories.
More Yosemite after the break.
What did we do? That was the name given to the Sunday BBQ after Lauren and I made it official. While the question was rhetorical, it didn’t really matter as the younger generation wasn’t ready to answer morning after, about the night before. Luckily, there’s no better remedy than pulled pork and shenanigans.
More Day After, after the break. Continue reading
I have a confession. I almost didn’t march. Go ahead. Judge me. I’ll wait. In all honestly, I didn’t realize what the marches were about. Yes, I can read, so I knew it was for women. But I was turned off by the idea of protesting for protesting’s sake. Spontaneous rallies had broken out Downtown earlier in the week, and while I supported the cause I hated the goons who used the opportunity to close freeways, scream at cops, and twiddle up their T-Shirts into muggers masks. None of that was experience at the women’s march. Not in the slightest.
More march after the break. Continue reading
Now we can’t play ball no more. With the squad on bye week I thought it appropriate to post memories from our first two seasons. Hopefully it’ll encourage some, I’ll say shy, members of the team to get in front of the lens next time. Remember kids. There’s heroes and there’s legends. Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.
More softball after the break. Continue reading
They say in the mountains the fish run free. Down by a creek engulfed in rock, trout glisten with hunger in early morning light. Two days and zero fish later, we call bullshit. But who can complain when a Dunn invites us to partake in family tradition?
More fish after the break. Continue reading
A van rumbles down the Outback Scenic Byway collecting high desert dust. She flips through stations fighting static. No luck. The fellow travelers offer no distraction, their lifeless bodies slumped in sleep. It has been lonely these three hours. They’re almost there.
Lakeview, Oregon. A place of little fanfare and even less sparkling water. Gravel pops as they pull into the motel. Hot springs will have to wait.
More Oregon Trail after the break. Continue reading
I used to pray for waves. Then I bought a Nikonos. Don’t get me wrong, a long day of surf beats almost anything out there. It’s just green flags don’t spell doom anymore. Lake Laguna means I get to break out my diving buddy, and there’s something so appealing about this camera. You want to hold it, shoot it, generally drool over it (which you can, cause it’s waterproof). Remember those dinky disposable cameras they sell in Hawaiian gift shops? Remember daydreaming about shots that may or may not come out? This thing is that damn exciting, except you end up taking decent pictures.
More Nikonos after the break. Continue reading
When the momma is away, the boys will play. Oliver seemed puckered about the impending move. He needed stress relief, I had a few frames to burn, so we filled the tub and jumped in.
More Frenchie after the break… Continue reading
I’d seen these two around the park before and always surrounded by a crowd (deservedly so, that’s a freaking cockatoo riding a bicycle). But I’m more of a one-on-one guy, so when I saw Ronny in a rare moment of peace, I decided to change that.
More Ronny (and if you stick around, my new favorite portrait) after the break. Continue reading
Not one. Not two. Not three. Actually it is two. But who’s counting? Me that’s who. I’m no good at simple math, but that comes out to one ‘ship for each year I’ve called this city home. After a glorious 9-1 season capped by a loss-avenging finals victory, the crew decided a celebration was in order. Some champions get a parade, this bunch settled for ice cream.
More images after the break. Continue reading
[gwu] Graham Whitaker Unterberger 