Bad bike trails, Carnaval, Cecil Rhodes, overpopulation (and finally The Plan for my life)
Mountain biking in the Bay Area, so far, gets an F. I went for a ride today, only to find the loop I was doing was almost unbikeable - it's not on hiking trails, but on old rutted out fire roads at 30º-angles that a jeep would have to be in first gear to ascend. Yes, that I'm complaining means I'm not in as good of shape as the 50 year olds passing me as I heave on the side of the trail road, but I tend believe that biking should be fun, or at least enjoyable. If I can walk up a slope faster than ride up it, and have difficulty walking down without slipping, then eff that, I say. I suppose they realized when lots of San Franciscans started being outdoorsy in the 50s and 60s in great numbers, they just made all the old military and Forest Service emergency roads open to the public rather than create new footpaths. It makes sense too with the volume of people and bikers and horseriders, but . . . eh, I'll stop ranting. Poor shape is all I have to say. This is strike one, California. I mean it.
I think I'm going into the city tomorrow for the second day of Carnaval, but maybe without Sarah and her Chilean friend that might be accompanying. I was listening on Pacifica radio to their broadcast of the music (7 stages!); it sounds like a hell of a good time. Last year there were 300,000 people that attended, and the festival's only on 7 city blocks. Should be fun.
Things that have come into my mind: I realized that Rhodesia (the British name for Zimbabwe and Zambia before 1979) was so named because of Cecil Rhodes, an imperialist that would make Kipling blush. He also started the Rhodes scholarship to encourage Americans to reunite with the British Empire. Also, I noticed I say "I'll" like "awl". That must be hard for foreigners to pick up on.
Living in California is making me more pessimistic about things I've always been pretty optimistic about. Because I'm surrounded by fast-paced overpopulated urban sprawl, which is only one of dozens in this country and hundreds in the world, I've realized that by the time this country deals effectively with emissions and climate change the climate already will have changed drastically. Also, I saw a killdeer chick abandoned by its mother with its neck broken, or some other pretty grievous problem, and all we could really do was leave it out for a hawk or some other creature to get a meal from. It's eyes weren't even opened yet. That's pretty upsetting, but if there's any mercy in this world it's only an artificial human creation. Emily, that's why I didn't get bothered by Chuck's death as much as Ollie's - Chuck lived a good long life before he died, and Ollie was the runt of his litter who died helpless and malnourished (and it doesn't help that I watched him die). Happens all the time, I know, and that's just how nature is, but it'll still jar me.
If this state is as overpopulated as it is, I can't imagine how much more overpopulated the Third World is. We need to get that under control (not for the reasons Cecil Rhodes would want), and abstinance is not an effective policy. Sorry folks, but expecting creatures that are hardwired to procreate not to do so isn't stemming the spread of HIV through Africa a bit. Export a lot of hyphy songs about jimmy caps, pronto. This is especially a problem because the warmer things get, the more arable land will be stripped from heavily populated areas that already have high rates of hungry and poverty. But nobody can concentrate on legitimate humanitarian issues because people are too content to blow each other and themselves apart. I suppose we don't really deserve better if this is the best we seem capable of, at least the weather will keep getting warmer. On a lighter note, my coworker Sarah is a really big Radiohead fan, so we can both expect a new album expressing these same concerns in a fatalistic manner this summer! (There's a slavic toddler throwing a fit here, how appropriate since I was just talking about birth control . . .)
For whatever reason, the coast of California is frequently drenched in 50º fog, while a few miles inland over relatively low mountains the rest of the state has sun and 70º to 80º weather. I drove from fog to sun to fog, then back to sun and now back to fog again. Weird.
I'll also have poison oak somewhere on my body until December, probably. I'm good despite all this pessimism, it's just a realization I'm coming to. I'm starting to identify a few birds by their calls, past the easy Olive-sided Flycatcher ("Quick! Three beers!") and the California Quail ("Chi-CA-go! Chi-CA-go!"). It's also pretty cool that crows and ravens live here side by side, on a pallid bust of Pallas up upon my chamber door.
Added later
I just came up with my most recent version of The Plan. I'm going to save up money working trails, traveling around and enjoying the ride. Then I'll try and get a job or internship dealing with environmental law or human rights or political corruption, and get some practical experience. Then I'll go to grad school and get an intense degree in something political, and let my bleeding heart guide me fighting the good fight. This will probably produce money inversely proportional to dedication, so by the time I'm completely spent and apathetic with the world, I'll have enough money to retire and never read the news again and buy a little house and stock my bird feeders and paint landscapes. That sounds pretty good, pretty achievable, and fairly realistic.