You Might Be Right, But You're Still an Asshole

"Don't be an asshole."
~Nelson L. Erb

I can't tell you how many times I heard my father utter this phrase growing up. Whether I was harassing my younger sister or getting argumentative about wanting to stay out past curfew, it always ended with the same five words - "Hey, don't be an asshole." And with that, it was over.

Now that I'm older and wiser (no laughing!), I've realized just how true and how widely applicable that simple phrase can be. While I don't have kids myself, I do coach collegiate track and field, and I can't tell you how many times this phrase has come in handy. The look you get when you fire that phrase to a kid that's clearly being an asshole - and usually they know it but just aren't expecting to get called on it - is priceless. Generally something somewhat dumbfounded followed by a realization that they should stop what they're doing. Brilliant in its simplicity.

So why, you ask, am I moved to reflect on childhood discipline? Well, unless you've been under a rock for the past few weeks, there's no doubt you've seen some version of the University of Florida student getting forcibly removed from the Senator Kerry Q&A session. If you haven't, google a few words in that last sentence and you'll instantly have more video than you know what to do with, but more on that later.

There's an interesting phenomenon occurring with younger people today. Myspace, youtube, facebook, and other social networks have opened up previously unheard of people and situations to the entire world via the internet. Previously private moments are now up for public display, and many embrace this faux-stardom. Whether its skateboarding, singing or just acting silly, cameras are everywhere and everything is open to everyone. George Orwell would be having a field day, but in this case we've made it easy on the government by using our own equipment. Its no surprise then, that there are different types of videos surfacing now, very similar to the one from the University of Florida.

A few weeks ago I stumbled on a different online video, this one shot from a camera mounted on the dashboard of a car - kind of like those police videos we see on COPS. However, this camera wasn't mounted on a police car, but rather on the dashboard of a car owned by 20 year old kid from St. Louis. He had previously gotten a ticket he felt he didn't deserve, but had no proof that he was in the right. This way, he figured, he would have all the evidence he needed if it ever happened again. And did it ever.

Not long after the debut of the dashboard camera, his video caught a police officer threatening to arrest him on "made up charges". The video clearly showed a cop saying he would make something up to arrest him for and take him to jail. Initially it sounds like the typical, Napoleon complexed cop with a chip on his shoulder looking to ruin some young kids night for no reason. Good for the kid for having the video.

But something told me there was more to the story that wasn't being shown, so I googled the camera man's name (its Brett Darrow, if you're curious) and found some very interesting stuff. Not only was there a lot more to the original video of the threatening cop indicating Brett was pushing the officer's buttons to get a reaction, but there were several more videos - all showing him being "unjustly" harassed by the police.

Now maybe I'm just naive, but I've been in my fair share of traffic stops (way to many in my 31 years, I've got the insurance premiums to prove it), and never once has an officer gone out of his way to give me a hard time. Never once have I been threatened with jail time for simply speeding or not wearing a seat belt. I've never even been asked to step out of the car. But here's a 20 year old kid who's almost gone to jail every time he's ever been pulled over. Strange, until you realize one thing. Every time he's been approached by a cop, he's acted like an asshole.

Instead of just answering yes sir/no sir, he'll barrage the officer with questions, argue his rights, and refuse to cooperate. While he technically isn't doing anything illegal, he is doing everything he can to get a reaction from the police. When he does, he has it all on tape and is standing by with a lawsuit. While the police might not be doing the right thing by giving him a hard time, neither is he by acting like an idiot. You get what you give.

It reminds me of my 6 and 4 year old cousins whenever things get too boring for them. Inevitably, one of them will take a toy they want nothing to do with except that the other one was playing with it, wait for a negative reaction (usually a smack in the face), then go crying to mommy and daddy. Did they want to toy? No. Did the smack even hurt? No. But there is just something satisfying about getting attention by causing someone else misery when you're five years old. Or if you're Brett Darrow, I suppose.

It was a similar thing that happned on the campus of the University of Florida during the Kerry speach. Here is a kid who clearly has an agenda, and was being obnoxious in his line of questioning. He was asked to leave, but didn't. When he didn't leave, police stepped in and removed him. Rather than say to himself, "okay, there's six cops, maybe I should just go easy and save myself some hassle" he resisted arrest and shouted for people to get it all on video, presumably so that he'd get even more attention after the altercation. He then got thrown to the ground and tased. Later he would be quoted as being paranoid about a government conspiracy against him. Now I've never met this kid, but I'll be he's not just acting like an asshole, my guess is that he's the real deal.

Maybe most intersting to me are the people that are so concerned with their rights, privacy, and the government's involvement in their lives are the very same people putting their lives on display for public viewing. My message to them? You can't have it both ways, and you've got to be careful what you wish for, or you might just get it.

Oh, and don't be an asshole.

DU-athlon?

Dousman Duathlon Event Results

Yep, results get the top billing this time, things went a little bit better!

Some years back while I was still in Pittsburgh, I spent a few years training (I use this term loosely - but those details are for another post) and competing in sprint triathlons. My theory was that since I had no real talent or desire to excel in any one endurance discipline, I could combine a few of them in one event and acheive some level of success. And to a certain extent, I did.

Its been some time since I actually thought about competing in such an event, mainly because I realized that swimming - or, more specifically, training for swimming - sucks. No offense to the swimmers out there, I have a great respect for what you do. Its just that going back and forth in a 25 meter (or yard, why is it that they're all measured just a little bit differently anyway??) pool is not my idea of a good time.

Enter the duathlon.

It turns out that there are a whole sect of people like me who think that running and biking are fun, but the swimming leaves a little to be desired. That, or its just getting too chilly around here, and even the nutty endurance folks don't want to plunge into 55 degree water when the air is even cooler. For these people, duathlon is the way to go. Generally speaking, the typical triathlon set up of swim-bike-run, is slightly modified to run-bike-run. Two diciplines instead of three, hence the DU.

In the case of the Dousman Duathlon that we competed in yesterday, the distances were a two, two mile runs split by a 20 mile bike ride. Now I must say that what Wisconsin lacks in mountain biking trails, it nearly makes up for in scenic road biking. Miles of rolling hills on back country roads with little traffic and shaded shoulders - perfect for a 20 miles on a Sunday morning. A little more chilly than I'm used to, but I'm slowly adapting.

In any event, things went much better. Finally, a place where being mediocre can actually produce some pretty good results.

14 of 15 Ain't Bad: Addendum

It was commented that I didn't list a link to the results of the aforementioned mountain bike race. Despite the dismal reality and likely ego bruise, I offer the following link for everyone's enjoyment:

Sunburst Showdown Sport Class Results

Yes, there were 163 total finishers, of which I placed 137. Now, I don't want to be accused of anything less than full disclosure, so be sure to note that even in the women's race (there were only 19 finishers), I would have barely cracked the top half. Oh, and there was a 12 year old girl nearly 7 minutes ahead of me.

Additional comments are welcome. Except from Jeff Stanners.

14 of 15 Ain't Bad

So in what has become a tireless search for new places to ride my mountain bike, a few weeks ago I stumbled across a website advertising a race series that takes place in 12 different cities within the great state of Wisconsin. Initially, I thought this was a great find. I mean, if they race bikes on these trails, surely they must be worthy of riding at other times during the year. Plus, it was advertised as the "Nation's Largest State Wide Racing Series". Kind of hard to argue with that.

As it turns out, the reason why Wisconsin (of all places) has such an extensive schedule of races is that there are so few trails and places to ride, the only time some areas allow mountain biking is under the guise of an official event like a race. So, in other words, if you want to take advantage of these unique locales, you'd better pony up 26 bucks and line up with the rest of the field on race day.

Fair enough.

Now lets talk a little about the format of these races. Keep in mind, I'm pretty much a novice to this stuff...sure I like to ride, but with the exeption of one or two ill fated efforts at racing in Pennsylvania and California, my victories have been limited to beating Jeff Stanners up the back side of Crafton Hills, as long as he didn't get a head start.

Lucky for me, there were three levels of competition to choose from - citizen, sport, and comp. The races are 10, 15, and 20 miles, repectively, of which I chose the middle. Ordinarily I would have gone with the shortest of the three, I am very much a novice afer all, but now that I live with someone highly competitive in the world of endurance sports, it was quickly brought to my attention that we don't do things that like around here. Awesome...a 15 mile "race" it is.

On race day, we arrive early enough to get in a good warm up and spend a little time learning the course. My initial observation was that there weren't any trails at all, just a path created by cutting the grass very short. The second thing I noticed was how everyone but me "looked" the part. For those of you not in the mountain biking/cycling know, riders adhere to a very specific style best described with one word - matching. The shirt matches the shorts that match the socks that have the same color as the helmet that was inspired by colors on the frame which mesh with a design on the fork which, as it just so happens, also matches the shirt. And so it goes. All brightly colored, form fitting technical fabrics that probably cost in upwards of $8 per sock. Compare this with me and my 10 year old cotton t-shirt that says "schuck me, suck me, eat me raw" (its an oyster bar reference, sheesh), black shorts with holes in the ass and broken helmet and you could say I stood out.

Anyway, after a thorough warm up and pre-race final instructions, the gun goes off, and so do all the riders but me. For crying out loud, this was a 15 mile race and everyone took off like they were sprinting to a port-a-potty across the field. Less than 1 mile into the race and I'm fearing the worst - a "DFL" finish (dead f'ing last, for those not in the endurance sport world).

Lucky for me, some of the riders did slow down, and I was actually able to catch a few of them. I was cruising up the hills and hitting the decents hard for the next 14 miles. 14 great miles of racing with one problem. It was a 15 mile race.

Now I can't say exactly where or when, but somewhere about that 14 mile mark I ran out of gas. And when I say ran out of gas, I mean I completely ran out of gas. I went from tired but still hammering over smaller hills and making aggressive moves around the other riders to just hoping the colored spots I was beginning to see didn't get so big that my vision was completely blocked. Suddenly, it was everything I could do just to turn the pedals. Lucky for me, the last part was relatively flat, and I was able to finish the race on the bike. Unfortunately, most of the other riders weren't feeling so queezy, and what must have been a least 20 bikes passed me like I was standing still.

But really, I'm not trying to make excuses, althought it seems that I need to find one seeing as how I just got smoked on a hilly course (by Wisconsin standards) by a bunch of guys who don't even really know what a hill is. Or maybe next time I can just find a race that's only 14 miles long.

Eat'n Shit - Milwaukee Style

I suppose I was due. For the past few weeks I've been talking smack about the state of mountain biking (or lack thereof) in and around the Milwaukee area. From what I could tell, the terrain was just too flat, the trails too smooth, and the rides too short to provide any sort of workout or challenge. Well, as I lay flat on my back on the side of a trail yesterday, I had a few realizations.

Let me back up here a bit. My move to Milwaukee has sort of been twofold - I came out for about a week and a half only to go back to California for two weeks and then return back here again for good. The first, short experience with Milwaukee was great. Sunny, hot, and humid, there wasn't much of a departure from what it was like in California. I was able to be outside doing work or playing or whatever - just like always. This second, more permanent trip has proven different. Today is Tuesday and it hasn't stopped raining since I got back here on Friday of last week. I've seen more rain in the last five days than I'd seen during the entire last year I was in California. That sounds like an exaggeration for effect, but it is actually completely true. I guess thats why most backyards are grass rather than dust and dirt (which is nice), but also why places like Southern California are more popular vacation destinations than Milwaukee, Wisconsin. But I digress...

Like I was saying, I have been talking a lot of smack about mountain biking out here. This after having investigated about every trail in Wisconsin, but only having ridden one - mostly due to the rain. So when it looked like there might be a small break in the wet action yesterday afternoon, I quickly packed up my bike and headed to what is considered the most fun and challenging technical single track in the city.

Parked in the Pick-N-Save parking lot I was reminded of our old Crafton Hills loop staging area in Yucaipa. I poked around some side streets until I found an access to the trail. It runs along side a river, so the only way to get down to the trail is by finding a steep access point from the streets above. Once on the trail it seemed tame enough, just some crushed limestone and relatively flat - not exactly what I had in mind. At one point, a freshly fallen (albeit HUGE) tree blocked the trail, so I had to return to the streets above to navigate around it. Now on the other side of the tree, things started to change. No more crushed gravel, dirt became the primary surface. Soon trees and roots and rocks were the norm. Add to this a steady left side camber and gently rolling topography, and I was actually having some fun!

For the next few miles I meandered my way through the trees and undulating dirt, noticing many more off-shoots and trail options that I left for future exploration. However, it wasn't until I was on my way back that I had what I would decide was the defining moment of this outing. At one point on the way back, I was on a trail that made its way down to the edge of the river. Since it has been raining so much, it served as a kind of mini-tributary and there was a very shallow (read: less than a half inch) trickle of water that ran down the middle. Just a few feet from where it would eventually hit the swollen river, there was a little drop formed by a pile of roots. This couldn't have been more than six or so inches high, so I had the choice to roll over or pull up and drop off. Given that it looked so low and I wasn't going that fast, I chose the former. However, there was one fairly important factor that I neglected to take into account when making this almost subconscience decision. That small, shallow trickle of water had at one time been a larger flow, and that larger flow had carved out a nice 6 or 8 inch deep pool of water on the other side of the roots. What I thought was just another half inch or so of standing water was actually at least 10 times that deep, and what started out as a simple little roll over some roots turned into a classic roll over my handle bars - dumping me into the mud and onto my back.

Now most people would find this frustrating, annoying, and painful. I guess that when it comes to riding I'm just not most people. As odd as it will sound to those who have never ridden with me before (but as normal as it will sound for those that have), looking up into the sky after that crash I breathed a loud sigh of relief. Rain? What rain? I just ate shit on some fun, challenging singletrack - life is good.

Peace Out, California!

As I was packing boxes the other day, I happened to come across a few labeled “To California”. It’s hard to believe that it was 5 years ago when I first packed those boxes in my parent’s basement with nothing but the promise of a poorly paid graduate assistant coaching job in my future. Even harder to believe is all that was accomplished in those five years, far more than I could have ever imagined. It was a ride that I will never forget, but it was time to go. Now I’m here in Milwaukee about to embark on new adventure on both personal and professional fronts, and I’m left reflecting on my time in California. I’ll miss it dearly, some things more than others. As such, here is a brief top 5 list of things I’ll miss the most and the least about sunny Southern California.

Top 5 Things I Won’t Miss About California:

5. No Good Sandwich Shops

The proximity to Mexico is great for tacos, but not so much for sandwiches. That being said, it’s damn near impossible to get a good deli sandwich in Southern California.

4. Traffic

Yes, this sounds cliché…I mean everyone complains about the traffic in Los Angeles and surrounding areas. But guess what? They complain because the traffic in LA is, without a doubt, the worst that anyone could possibly imagine. Combine this with the fact that there are no such things as fast and slow lanes (but there are, in fact, FIVE lanes to choose from), there are an abundance of people who learned how to drive by watching “Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift”, and having a cell phone on your ear is as important to a car’s operation as turning the key, and you have a bad situation. It sucks, and I won’t miss it.

3. Style

Or lack thereof. Any place that embraces skater shoes, wallet chains, flat brimmed hats, big shorts, black socks, tattoo sleeves, and flavor savor facial hair has some serious issues. If I see one more short, fat, out of shape guy wearing the above defined IE uniform walk into a bar with a drop dead gorgeous blond on his arm I just might kill myself. I’ll enjoy a place where tall, in shape, educated, and good looking are more appreciated.


2. Smog

For those of you Southern California natives, you might not know what I’m talking about, so just substitute the world “marine layer” anywhere you see smog. For all others, understand that the entire population of Southern California has convinced themselves that the thick, ugly, yellow haze that hangs over much of the area for a good portion of the year has nothing to do with the fact that the area has the highest number of cars per capita, but rather is a weather anomaly caused by condensation and ocean currents. Nice try, but I’m not buying it.

I’ll never forget the first time I came out of my apartment in Redlands and saw the mountains. This wasn’t the first time I came out of my apartment mind you, just the first time I could actually see mountains when I did. You see, the smog can be so bad that the views of the 6,000-11,000 foot peaks a mere 5 miles away can be completely obstructed. I’m not exaggerating one bit, it was three days before I realized what amazing views could be seen from my back porch. David Copperfield could have a field day.

1. Being Thousands of Miles from Friends and Family

Airplanes are fun, but they’re also damn expensive and get old when you’re averaging a flight a month. It will be nice to be able to hop in the car and be less than a day’s drive from all of my people back home - and just a few feet from Amy.

Top 5 Things I Will Miss Most About Southern California

5. Mexican Food

What is the best thing about being a quick 2 hours from the Mexican border? The biggest selection of authentic Mexican food you could ever imagine. Prepared by actual Mexicans. So authentic that they don’t even speak English – I’m thankful that Carne Asada Burrito translates pretty easily!

4. Mountains

When I first accepted the job offer at Redlands, I couldn’t wait to get to California and go to the beach. After all, that’s what everyone thinks of when they think Southern California, right? As it turns out, there are mountains there too, and they have been much more entertaining than the beach could ever be.

As a cross country coach, I was constantly searching for newer and more scenic trails for the athletes to run on, and there was no shortage. As my newly developed passion for mountain biking took off, I realized I have been forever spoiled by what might be some of the best trails in the country right out my back door.

Mountains rock.

3. Weather

“Yeah, but you’ll miss the change in seasons!”

I can’t tell you how many people told me that I’ll miss the cold or the seasons or the leaves changing colors, and or any other of the wonders in a four season world. Well I’ve got news for you – bullshit. Never for one second did I miss the cold crappy weather of Western Pennsylvania. I’ve decided that all of the “change in seasons” people have an unspoken pact to remind those that live in warm climates how much they like the variety. After experiencing perpetual warm weather, I don’t believe them at all. Yep, it gets real hot in California, but do you know what I was thinking when it was 110 degrees? I was thinking that I’ll take this heat over 35 degrees and raining any time.

2. The University of Redlands

I have a strong feeling that I’ll not soon come across a group of people more dedicated to the development of young people, more committed to the pursuit of excellence, and more desirous of winning than the staff at the University of Redlands. Early on, it was made very clear to me that Redlands truly recognized the role of athletics in the academic development of students, and I was reminded of this philosophy every day. The myriad of accomplishments are far to great to list here, but in the words of Jim Ducey – “I know, he knows, and we all know, and that’s what’s important.” I’ll miss my experience at Redlands deeply.

1. Redlands Track and Field

It is important for me to differentiate between the University and the actual track and field program at the University. As much as I’ll miss the school itself, the experience would have been nothing without the team that I got to be a part of. To take a team from nothing, and become one of the premier programs in the country was nothing short of exhilarating. It took a special combination of support, coaches, and athletes to make it possible, and if every team I work with from here on out is only as fun as the team I had at Redlands, then I’ll be forever happy.

So that’s that. Another chapter wrapped up nice and neat, and a brand new one right here in front of me. I’m a pretty lucky guy.

Disc Golf?

So I'm not so sure I'm proud of it, but it seems that I enjoy the pastime of disc golf. What is that, you ask? Well, pretty much as it sounds - its just like golf, but instead of using a club and ball, you just throw frisbees. Those "in the know" call them discs. Instead of holes they have "baskets" which slightly resemble basketball nets but their closer to the ground. Whatever.

You see, just before I left Redlands, the city put a small course in one of the local parks, and some friends and I got to playing fairly regularly. Now there is no chance that I will ever categorize this hobby as a sport, but it is something fun to do when you have some time and would like to take a lazy walk around a park.

Anyway, it just so happened that my first day in Milwaukee fell right in the middle of the Amateur Disc Golf World Championship that was taking place here in town. Wanting to take a break from unpacking and getting settled, I headed over to the local park that played host to this contest - which was just a short walk away. The following is a quick rundown of what I observed:

• I didn't see one person without some sort of portable collapsable chair. And they sure used them. It occured to me that real golfers walk 18 without a chair, and it takes at least twice as long to do that.

• Everyone had one of those big bags with more discs than I'd ever seen before. At least 20-25 discs per person. The bags even had backpack straps on them, to lessen the strain on their throwing arms, I suppose. Oh, and one guy had a baby jogger with all his gear in it, I guess he didn't want to strain his back.

• I saw one guy actually make his drive with his right hand while holding a cigarette in his left. I'm pretty sure I saw him take a drag, throw the disc, and then blow it out. Keep in mind this is the WORLD championships. Sheesh.

• There was a kid who took about 30 seconds eyeing up his drive, shuffled across the tee, and then proceeded to hold on to the disc way too long and threw it exactly 90 degrees away from the direction he intended. I let out a snort as I tried to refrain from laughing, hopefully he didn't hear me.

That being said, it was a very nice park and a neatly kept course, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Most were far more intense than I'll ever be when carrying fris...er...uh...discs, but for a relaxing afternoon or a cool down after a ride or run, disc golf might be just what the doctor ordered.

Salvation Mountain

About a week or two ago I stumbled upon a documentary on TV about the Salton Sea. I had heard of it before in passing, its in the desert out past Palm Springs and apparently has some ecological significance that some of our Envirmental Studies classes have interest in studying. Through this documentary, I learned that it has a colorful history which began when it was formed by accident from water escaping from faulty dams on the Colorado River and continues to be sustained by runoff from the many farms in the area. Not to get too much into it (google Salton Sea if you want to know more), but the newly formed lake is the largest in California, and due to the fact that it is below sea level, it acts as a "sink" since there is no outlet for the water draining off the farms. The land the water came to rest on was already very salty, and since the only way water gets out is through evaporation, it coninues to increase in salinity. Now it is very much like the Great Salt Lake, things float very well in the water.

Well, in the 50's and 60's, this area became a very popular vacation destination due fishing and water sports. State parks were formed, ammenities like restaurants and hotels went up, many plans for future development were put in place, and people were having a great time. However, at some point things went terribly wrong. It doesn't seem that anyone knows for sure, but the water got too salty, people dumped too much sewage into it, fish and wildlife started dying, and people may or may not have gotten sick from being associated with the water. As such, this once booming tourist attraction died about as fast as it was created, leaving a virtual ghost town of delapidated infrastructure and ecclectic people. There have been several attempts to reclaim the area - the most notable was lead by Sonny Bono but pretty much died with him - so the people left are either waiting for the next tourism boom or are just happy to be some place that they can be left alone (there is no real reason to even drive through the area, its WAY out in the desert and between nothing). All that is left are several run down, shanty like towns full of people driving golf carts (the closest gas is 20 miles away). Filled with ruins of what once was, it has a very post-apocolyptic and creepy feeling.

This area was also mentioned in the book Into the Wild, and between that and the documentary, I had a strong desire to check it out. It just so happened that Jeff was going out to pick up his dog at his parents place in Palm Desert, so we decided to make a day out of it and see what this place was all about. This is where the adventure begins.

Palm Springs is way out in the desert. Palm Desert is a little past that. After you get through Palm Desert you go through Indio and then Coachella. About 20 miles past Coachella out into the desert is the largest lake in California, the Salton Sea. So we get all the way out there and are driving past and through a few of the little towns I saw in the documentary. None of them had more than maybe 3 or 4 hundred inhabitants and it was just as it was depicted in the movie. Empty run down buildings, a few stray dogs, and maybe a few old, fat, and very tan people sitting in the shade smoking cigarettes. Don't ask me why, but it was fascinating. However, the coolest part was a little more down the road.

One part of the movie chronicled something known as Salvation Mountain (definitely google this one). We went there. It was nothing short of amazing. About three miles into the desert outside of one of these little shanty towns lives a man who has created something almost indescribable - but I'll do my best. Basically, it is a 50+ foot hill/adobe/garbage structure that a man named Leonard has been working on all by himself for the last 30 years. With materials he finds out in the desert, and hundreds of thousands of gallons of acryllic paint, he has made a giant "thing" he uses to spread his universal message of God is love. The main portion is on the hill, which is covered in every imaginable color of paint. Waterfalls, rainbows, flowers, birds, suns, waves, boats, bible verses, random designs, and words of wisdom cover every square inch of this hill. Attached to this are manmade caves of old tires, tree branches, and hay bales that he has either found or has had donated to him, all held together by the adobe clay from the surrounding area. In these caves he's embedded old car windows, photos, newspaper clippings, and an assortment of other trinkets and things...its one of those deals where the closer you look the more you find and you could spend an entire week discovering new things. Awesome.

For about 10 minutes, we were the only ones there. But to our great suprise, it would turn out, as we were about to get back in the car, we saw this little white station wagon rumbling down the dirt road to the mountain. Out of it jumped this frail looking old man with leather skin and silver hair. It was Leonard! And boy, was he happy to see us. He greeted us with a big friendly hello and enthusiastically said "if you've got a few minutes, I'd love to give you a tour". We happily obliged. From here we spent the next half our in the 110 degree sun with what might be the most interesting person I have ever met in my life.

At 76 years old and no more than 120 pounds, this little man in the desert was beside himself with excitement telling us the story of him and the mountain. He told us that 30 years ago he was driving through the desert with a hot air balloon that said "God is love" on it. Something happened to the balloon, and to replace it, he said he'd spend a week inscribing the same message on this particular hill. Well, 30 years later, he's still there, and he's still working on the mountain with the enthusiasm of an 8 year old on Christmas morning. Every few minutes, he'd apologize for going on so long and offer to tell us more if we had time. Luckily we did. He told us about his message of love and that it was all about you and God and the bible, and that religion and churches had nothing to do with it (but if you were in to that sort of thing "Just love the church down the street, too, and you'll be fine." according to Leonard). He was almost in tears with excitement of having the opportunity to tell us to love everyone and love God, and that God loves us and everything he's ever created. It might seem like the passion came from the fact that someone actually took the time to talk to him, but in the winter, he regularly gets over 100 visitors a day, and we were the second group through today at around 1:00 in the afternoon. Somehow, believe it or not, he managed to come off without seeming one bit crazy or psychotic. Not even preachy or pushy. Just a guy with a message who wanted to spread it in a way that nobody had ever thought to do before. Oh, and he lives in the same place he did when he first arrived - at the base of the hill in the truck he drove in on all that time ago, and from what I can tell, has no legal claim to the property whatsoever.

There have been books and movies about him, and he has art in various museums around the country. He's somewhat of a cult hero, and rightfully so. If I ever get back to Southern California, you can bet a visit to Leonard and Salvation Mountain will be on my itinerary.

So that's what we did today.