tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13694896597142675872024-02-21T22:16:38.948-05:00The Adventures of BenA blog all about the adventure that is life.Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-66435872503375553772012-05-13T00:06:00.002-04:002012-05-13T00:06:36.168-04:00Crescent City Surf Session<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here are a few clips I pieced together from last Sunday's beach day in Crescent City. Nothing beats waist high peelers, sunny skies and beautiful Far Northern California scenery.<br />
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<br />Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-73224333345427544372012-02-07T14:14:00.002-05:002012-02-07T14:14:45.441-05:00Our First Month on the West Coast<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><i>Life in Northern Humboldt County</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset Over the Hills and the Pacific Ocean</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fog Rolling in from the Coast</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our local redwood forest.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Curly Redwood Tree</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capt. Gill driving the 'Humboldt Tug'</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulling Alongside the Fuel Barge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over the Ocean with Mountains in the Distance</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eureka's Commercial Waterfront</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woodley Island Marina</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking South from Houda Point</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camel Rock</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last look at the Surf after a Two hour surf session</td></tr>
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<br />Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-36280660082842049172011-10-14T08:27:00.003-04:002011-10-14T08:27:16.892-04:00Spear Fishing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyQmRsNPSDkoVNdopUR7nuIoB8Q2Ig1yvSfTpUfuGDAQRwI4GJUmTDzmgXLftniMIIPb8kIc7XY1IzE8WKynQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-41278417575003797882011-09-28T12:46:00.000-04:002011-09-28T12:46:36.951-04:00The Latest Pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-46844483960246962852011-09-19T14:15:00.002-04:002011-09-22T17:35:46.626-04:00The On-Going Adventures of Ben, Justine and Sparky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hey Everyone,<br />
Here are a few pictures and stories from the first couple weeks of vacation. Things are great. The weather has been perfect, waves have been plentiful and the beer is flowing like wine. Enjoy the pictures. I'll have more posted in a few days. It's hard to sit in front of the laptop for too long when sooo much nature beckons.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
Ben<br />
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We sure do know how to pack things into our little Honda Fit.<br /><br />
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On our way through a little Southern town, I happened to see a statue honoring great bird dogs. I knew I had to take Sparky to pay tribute.<br />
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<br />Fort Smith, Arkansas. Justine has a neat little APP on her phone that helps us find camping along the way. I'm pretty sure this place should have been labeled trailer park, as many on the campers looked pretty permanent. Always a dead give away when an RV is up on blocks and has a fridge outside the camper. I did meet a few funny locals who were dead set on taking me "noodling" (hand fishing for catfish), until a six foot snake cruised up the creek.<br />
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<u><b>Into New Mexico</b></u> <br />
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Driving through the SE states took a long time. Florida, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma we miserable to drive through. Those first few days in the car drug on for a while, there is only so much NPR and talk-radio that I can handle before I need to get out and run around in some open spaces.<br />
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<img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaN80XGKtks1XDSOudG1dW6FdcKJVa_2cQBB1MXP8i3mE5J_nGA7Td2U5NrL2fVlFLTDWAkRHT9q8K6nW0O4ZbIyInJhFC2k8JT1OIgf4eYKBNUYm9R1rvHj0vj4HHlDKS-THVp5tqPATf/s640/P9040029.JPG" width="640" /> Apparently the water level of the Santa Rosa Reservoir is a tad lower than normal.</div>
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Funny story about this camp-ground. We camped here on Labor Day Weekend, so we knew that crowds were going to be in full effect, but I wasn't prepared for the massive amount of huge Hispanic families. I'm talking like two dozen people crowded into a single camp-site, blasting music and getting hill-billy drunk on cheap beer. Skinny dogs running around and little grubby kids throwing rocks at each other. A weird scene to be sure, but things took a turn South around 2AM-well after the families were tucked into their tents. <br />
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I woke up around 2AM to the oddest bass line I've ever heard, mingled with loud profanity laced tirade about test tube babies, 'hoes', white people, and a number of other crazy topics. Justine had been up for a while from the looks of her annoyance. Apparently other people had told them to shut up, but lacked the authority to make it happen. After scheming for a brief time with Justine, I slipped out the back of our site, doubled around through the camp-ground and approached them from the camp-host's site. I strolled up the the offending campers and bathed them in the authoritative light of my 4 D-Cell Mag-Lite (the cop-sized light). I told them that I was the camp-host and that they needed to quiet down immediately or rangers would be woken up. They quieted down immediately, apologized for any inconvenience and I walked off to continue my "rounds". After I cleared their line of sight I killed my light, doubled back to our site (which was about 25 yards from theirs') and crept into our tent.<br />
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As I lay there in the dark silence, I could hear them start whispering and talking about the "white-honky-cracker piece of shit surfer dude" who told them to shut up. They were pissed that a "whitey" would tell them what to do and I think the longer they stewed on it, the more convinced they were that they had been had by some random white kid. Before they passed out, they decided that they were going to wake up early and check the campground for "white-people cars" and that punk surfer who played them.<br />
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Needless to say, we got back to sleep and then woke up and boogey-ed out of there early and caught a beautiful sunrise over the desert.<br />
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Left- I enjoy a fine beer in Santa Fe, NM.<br />
Right- Justine poses in front of one of countless beautiful building.<br />
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<u><b>Wilson, AZ and the Kaibab National Forest</b></u><br />
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After our powering through New Mexico and most of Arizona, we found a beautiful little National Forest Service campground just south of the Grand Canyon, for $15 we scored a secluded campsite which overlooked a little mountain lake. <br />
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Sparky loves swimming. I'm trying to wear him out in the water to give the squirrels back in camp a break.<br />
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Justine ponders the beauty surrounding us.<br />
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Morning coffee on the lake, not a bad way to start the day. After leaving AZ, we drove the rest of the way to the coast and to our favorite campground in Carpinteria CA.<br />
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<u><b>Going Coastal</b></u><br />
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Nothing is cooler than waxing up a brand new board while waves peel over your shoulder, 50 yards across the sand with nobody out. Stoked!<br />
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Our ocean front camp for a few days. I'd say we look pretty happy.<br />
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View from Morro Bay State Park Nature Center. Morro Bay SP is pretty awesome, great camping and the town of MB is sweet. Family vacation spot someday? </div>
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Random headland along the Big Sur coastline. There is still plenty of open space for those willing to look for it. <br />
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This is the cove on the North side of the headland. Tons of stuff to look at, but no footprints! </div>
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Sparky loves to play tag on the beach. <br />
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Sweet little motel, 1 block from Ocean Beach San Francisco...Not a bad place to hang out for a few days.<br />
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I think I'll put that duck in my stomach! Best roasted duck I've ever eaten...<br />
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I love single fins in the morning.</div>
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Nice wave with nobody out, yet. </div>
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We ended up surfing this little gem for a couple of hours. It's a tad bigger than it looks, I definitely got worked over a few times.<br />
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I got lucky enough to take a ride on a tugboat bringing in a 375 foot lumber barge. I guess the Chinese are buying up all of our lumber, the local mills can't even afford the wood...Pretty lame situation if you ask me, but the tugboat was cool.</div>
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Check out Pat with his hand on the tugboat, we were steaming along side of it at 10kts. Really crazy to be so close to such a huge boat. </div>
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Hippies are alive and well on the North Coast. Check out the kinetic jig saw.</div>
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Allright everyone, I hope you enjoyed the pictures. I'll post more in the next day or so. Feel free to share the link with your friends and co-workers. </div>
<span id="goog_1614943318"></span><span id="goog_1614943319"></span>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-81969697264784227602010-10-01T20:53:00.006-04:002010-10-18T17:49:31.842-04:00On The Road Again...<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Back Home in Tourist Land</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div>It is an odd feeling to return to a transient town after a month away and to be welcomed back with open arms by the saltiest locals and have 'hellos' shouted at you across the street and across the channel while paddle-boarding. We have been in Key West since January, but the town already is starting to feel like home. We have hopscotched our way across the country, living in a variety of towns...but Key West seems to have taken us under her wing like no other.<div><br /></div><div>We have been back from our month-long sojourn for about five days, and each day I have bumped into folks who have inquired about our trip, our handsome mutt Sparky, or have been simply friendly neighbors and filled us in on the local gossip. After living in California, where most people would rather tell you to 'Fu@k Off" than say hello...It is an interesting turn of events. Especially considering that I kind of have wistful emotions about heading back West...</div><div><br /></div><div>I will quickly recap the state of my life, so y'all can keep up with the narrative...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>My wife and I live in Key West. I work on boats and my wife runs the <a href="http://www.pranaspakeywest.com/">premier spa in Key West</a> (go ahead and click on the link, my missive will be waiting for you to return). We moved here for her job and can you blame us for moving to Key West? I had never been here before her interview, but this town and the Florida Keys region indeed kicks a serious amount of ass... </div><div><br /></div><div><div>Without any further ado or grab-ass, I will start a little narrative about our trip and attempt to avoid any needless political bantering or wistful bull-crap....</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Road Home to Indiana</b></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div>Justine and I have seriously awesome family. It is hard to plan a trip anywhere within a thousand miles of these folk and not look at a little detour for a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">barbeque</span> or some sort of get together. Luckily for everybody involved, our favorite artist Xavier Rudd was playing a show in Atlanta Georgia in our time frame for traveling North. It was the perfect excuse for heading inland a tad. </div><div><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJrHE7fU8-kOT52Ed3OXoHVlwNrDySzTXEzcm90nQ2q-wab7zOLuLmNLil7i3hIX89IxUByoSbodpEyEgqAHOSLxQaotPUdJ9rW-UvQa06NkjWBc6WGzZVYlaDDgW3-XXywE_4emeWrulN/s400/P8300059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523254075846361954" border="0" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Our First Stop in Cocoa Beach</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>Heading North through Florida sucks. The highest points of the drive are the landfills which border I-95. The state of Florida in generally is a horrid <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cess</span>-pool of crappy scenery and rednecks. That statement may be derogatory, but you cannot argue against it. Florida, in general, sucks. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cocoa Beach sucks least though, out of the places that we could stop on the way to Atlanta. I had hoped to surf as much as possible throughout the trip, but some forgettable tropical storm stirred the waters a bit too much to allow for pleasurable surfing. I contented myself with a lot of profanity/drinking and Sparky taking dumps in the surf (kidding...maybe). He does look rather happy coming out of that shore break though doesn't he?</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Xavier Rudd in Atlanta</b></div><div>Xavier Rudd is one of our favorite musicians. He's from Australia and pretty much blows every other musician I have ever heard of out of the water. He is rather folksy and bluesy, but it's Australian folk and blues...So you have never heard anything like it. Go ahead and take a break from my rambling and <a href="http://www.xavierrudd.com/">check him out</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>OK. You are focused and with me now. He pretty much rocks doesn't he? I hope you read his biography, because he makes any of the 'Jesse Jackson types' in America seem non-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">commital</span> about the problems we face today. In fact, I would consider him a voice of sanity in today's world. Ooh, I'm getting close to politics...and I always save that for the last paragraph...so let's move along. Shall we?</div><div><br /></div><div>We stayed in a hotel a couple of miles away from our concert, so we caught a cab to the show. We actually caught one home too and it was weird how both of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">cabbies</span> were Nigerian. It was also weird how their politics and philosophies were oddly out of touch with reality and in complete contrast with the actual American reality of life. My wife and I are very open to conversation and I enjoyed listening to their respective take on life and reason for immigration. They had no problem defaming our American way of life, but at the same time they were hungrily striving for that same piece of the Dream. They were just trying to make an Islamic version of that Dream happen. For instance, we drove through the art/culture district of Atlanta and our first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cabbie</span> was busy pointing out everybody that looked 'gay'. He kept saying, "Look, look...See what I mean about this neighborhood. Very bad people". I had to hold my tongue for all of the ride and simply chuckle with a 'What the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Fu</span>#$' when I got I out of that cab. I neglected to mention that I lived in Key West and the area looked pretty tame, when compared to strolling past our local burlesque bars after mid-night. The funny thing was that both of these guys had huge families back in Nigeria that they refused to bring over to the US of A until they were college age, apparently they didn't want their education to include superfluous things like respect for all people...<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We walked into the concert venue and had to make sure that we had the right concert hall. Apparently Atlanta isn't up to date on relevant world music or maybe the town as a whole is too up it's ass in rap music to realize when a world class concert comes to town. I remember back to the time we saw Xavier Rudd in Oregon and we were practically elbowing hippies to protect out spot in line. </div><div><br /></div><div>The concert was everything I hoped it would be. It rocked. Very hard. This guy plays steel guitar, lap guitar, a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didgeridoo, foot drum set, harmonica, and a variety of instruments that I've never even seen. He's also backed up by two fantastic musicians on drums and bass.</span> I am a fan of Xavier Rudd. If you know me, email me with your address and I will gladly buy you a CD and mail it to you. You are seriously missing out if you do not listen to this music.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimf2G5Rgl-WhhL7WXSntFqOJo_nwAzgn0cGAmp2Gor7KqoNbyIOVe3hmFyTB-OlddgUaE97pexir9RU2B5PntxBwftIxZMujmDwdLpgFgCjMtbLrcIejb2pNQQvYSNyC7gHtGA8Di0IjZ3/s1600/P8310073.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimf2G5Rgl-WhhL7WXSntFqOJo_nwAzgn0cGAmp2Gor7KqoNbyIOVe3hmFyTB-OlddgUaE97pexir9RU2B5PntxBwftIxZMujmDwdLpgFgCjMtbLrcIejb2pNQQvYSNyC7gHtGA8Di0IjZ3/s400/P8310073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525042318368620018" border="0" /></a><br />I guess I forgot to mention that Justine was having so much fun at the concert, that she decided to hop up on the stage and jam out with Xavier. So ya, towards the end of the concert several ladies hopped up on stage and jammed out with Xavier Rudd and his band. You gotta love that...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwpFDfofRAxhJSTNBZS6N-n2z3odtC0PfarKLLHK3pWoMjr4-dzmno7RX2OPozNJd74f3dqwB5bnU8YkisINR5nklNE2MGU4X_PlLQ49EqdO1iIDWuKXkSj8POgdmZlYhsMQJfCROINHa/s1600/P8310105.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwpFDfofRAxhJSTNBZS6N-n2z3odtC0PfarKLLHK3pWoMjr4-dzmno7RX2OPozNJd74f3dqwB5bnU8YkisINR5nklNE2MGU4X_PlLQ49EqdO1iIDWuKXkSj8POgdmZlYhsMQJfCROINHa/s400/P8310105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525042322562818162" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Onward and Inland to Indiana</span><br /></div>The next morning after the Xavier Rudd concert, we threw our bags back into our little Honda Fit and powered North towards Indiana. We spent a night outside Indianapolis with a great buddy, Davis, from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">highschool</span> and his fiancee. It's so awesome to hang out with people whom you have known for over a decade and done insanely stupid things with that have become serious titans of industry (or at least done something serious in life) yet retain a fine taste for Miller High Life. After leaving Indy early in the morning, we powered into West Lafayette for a stroll through the Alma Mater and a brief walk down memory lane. My wife has a close friend who lives in town and just got engaged. We were lucky enough meet up with her and her new fiancee at a new pub called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">DT</span> Kirby's for some greasy pubs fare and delicious craft micro-brew. They have this awesome IPA from People's Brewing Company that knocked my socks off. After Justine finished up with her long overdue hugs, we headed North and home for a long weekend with our families. Just for the record, the beer was so good that I had to have more than my fair share, luckily Justine volunteered to drive the rest of the way home.<br /><br />Heading back to our old hometown is always interesting. Justine and I both grew up in the same town. Now our parents live about 20 minutes apart, just a couple of dusty country roads apart. Her parents live on a pristine lake and my parents live on a beautiful farm. After leaving Indiana after college for the coast, I tend to get a little bit shaky and very grumpy if I cannot dip my toes into water on a daily basis, so we generally stay at the lake on our visits. This time was no different and we had a beautiful time on the water going Stand Up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Paddle-boarding</span>, fishing, taking Sparky swimming, and having bonfires.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIJcDKjzlO4h0Lgg_t2wjZj8zV37oYEwKi83FxT0gsQ4Ey-i6HB6Oo56jKixD17nnSqhdBqde0oyKA5vo8YmH2lXDRndBvyml3Kwpi0UsWSFYF23mRQQNgY3RkMY2UtoAnnKSesP5afOc/s1600/P9060018.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 431px; height: 323px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIJcDKjzlO4h0Lgg_t2wjZj8zV37oYEwKi83FxT0gsQ4Ey-i6HB6Oo56jKixD17nnSqhdBqde0oyKA5vo8YmH2lXDRndBvyml3Kwpi0UsWSFYF23mRQQNgY3RkMY2UtoAnnKSesP5afOc/s400/P9060018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525032348878529314" border="0" /></a><br />Our time was filled with big family lake days, visits from extended family, great home cooked food, and keeping Sparky from decimating the native cat, goose, and squirrel population. Our one diversion from the lake was to head up to a Purdue/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Notre</span> Dame football game at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Notre</span> Dame. I won't go into many details from the game since Purdue got sorely whooped by the hated Irish. My good friend Colin took us to the game, supplying everything from awesome tickets to tailgating action.<br /><br />It was my first college football game since graduation from Purdue and everything was just as I remember it. I had been to several <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Notre</span> Dame games during college and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Notre</span> Dame fans just don't change. On the whole, they are the most annoying and cocky group of fans that I could possibly imagine. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Notre</span> Dame is a fairly small school with a small group of alumni, so it follows that most of these people are (what a fellow Boilermaker calls) subway alumni. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Notre</span> Dame has sucked for the past several years and it was sad that Purdue had to lose to them, but I guess I really didn't care that much. The game was fun, but the tailgating was more fun. Justine had a friend who used to live near <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Notre</span> Dame in South Bend drop by and it was great to reconnect with her. Her and her boyfriend are two solid hippies who spend their time bumping around the country, going to shows and generally living life. In the whole crowd of tens of thousands of rabid football fans, they were the most normal people we met.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WfhcgAZ2ilfwi-QkQLfxUDbxUZzkOD-DgQr6zwWIfVzNyHI0t4PCkJuEyiMaF0V0mwhms8xRUY_nrMlaGenDXZ4sUasT24DyLDXj0HS0B6X-YmoI7plk5dclHc5XJh72A8wkRgJwZF-J/s1600/P9040055.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WfhcgAZ2ilfwi-QkQLfxUDbxUZzkOD-DgQr6zwWIfVzNyHI0t4PCkJuEyiMaF0V0mwhms8xRUY_nrMlaGenDXZ4sUasT24DyLDXj0HS0B6X-YmoI7plk5dclHc5XJh72A8wkRgJwZF-J/s400/P9040055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525032351337909986" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">On Towards the Northeast</span><br /></div>After our four day weekend in Indiana we hit the dusty trail for our eventual destination of Maine. Leaving Indiana early on Tuesday morning, we crossed the dreaded state of Ohio and headed into northern Pennsylvania for our first night of camping.<br /><br />Justine and I had been looking forward to sitting around a campfire with beers in hand for the past nine months. It was so nice to actually be sitting in the woods with dirty feet, listening to the sounds of crackling wood mingle with the forest. For the first four years of our marriage, camping was WHAT we did in our free time. Living in California <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">lended</span> itself very well to camping. We were surrounded by dank, wild and untrammeled forests and living in Key West has put a little bit of a damper on our camping time, so it was very refreshing to smell all of the old familiar smells of a northern woods. After the tent was set up and fire nicely burning with Justine's famous campfire spaghetti with meatballs slowly cooking, we grinned at each other and clinked beers to another long, beautiful extended vacation.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyD00oOBR5M_2qldoJPeOXpJlmgjdavx3pUEsTaLB8zEeYvasCql5vgIt6prV6bbHfANEMdos3pop_ArYLc3NURAxCV_jTSOpxLiPAtq8Da46WvZBvRR9YMwg9PB3WH3XG_iU0hTaaq40/s1600/P9070040.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 153px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyD00oOBR5M_2qldoJPeOXpJlmgjdavx3pUEsTaLB8zEeYvasCql5vgIt6prV6bbHfANEMdos3pop_ArYLc3NURAxCV_jTSOpxLiPAtq8Da46WvZBvRR9YMwg9PB3WH3XG_iU0hTaaq40/s400/P9070040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525042329421205314" border="0" /></a><br />After leaving Pennsylvania, we worked our way North and East into Upstate New York. I was surprised by how rural the whole region is. I mean outside of Albany, we didn't really drive through any serious urban areas. The driving was all through beautiful, rolling farmlands with small mountains in the background. We took a leisurely pace of driving, stopping several times to take Sparky for walks or skateboarding. After an afternoon of driving we picked a good state park out on the map and headed that way. Along the way, we picked up some supplies of ice, camping grub, and local micro-brew. I mean, you wouldn't expect us to drink Miller Lite the whole trip, would you? Our second night of camping brought us to a beautiful little state park in New York. Apparently it had just had some road paving done, because there were some wonderfully smooth hills for me to skateboard down...including one very close to our campsite.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDc8hT4BUt1XYZf5j2pGSSvZwFUCZZVJ_2k7IOi51Lana3PVSkdzuC6CAlsVdAafJjOwqdWxLkGbECzvJc8WBizh_MKp-LesZfS46NCTCpxmNv7m_9CM1rlTf3RxmmerXRwuTpWT5iM5Hb/s1600/P9080063.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 483px; height: 362px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDc8hT4BUt1XYZf5j2pGSSvZwFUCZZVJ_2k7IOi51Lana3PVSkdzuC6CAlsVdAafJjOwqdWxLkGbECzvJc8WBizh_MKp-LesZfS46NCTCpxmNv7m_9CM1rlTf3RxmmerXRwuTpWT5iM5Hb/s400/P9080063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525042333271614946" border="0" /></a>Leaving New York, we were excited to get into Vermont and check out the town of Burlington. Our driving route took us along the eastern shore of Lake Champlain and through numerous beautiful little, picturesque towns. I'm talking towns that were postcard perfect. Towns with a general store, post office, cafe, and not a piece of litter to be found. I can safely say that if Vermont had waves, I would move there tomorrow.<br /><br />Our main reason for heading into Vermont was to visit the town of Burlington. We had heard a lot of great things about this little slice of paradise. They have several great colleges, plenty of old hippies, breweries, and it is nestled along the shores of Lake Champlain.<br /><br />Burlington did not disappoint us. The town is beautiful. The architecture is spectacular and the views across Lake Champlain are glorious. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">microbrew</span> is delicious, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">hoppy</span>, unique, and plentiful. Shortly after arriving into Burlington, we left Sparky to his own amusement in our hotel room, and then struck out into the town center in search of new beers and pub-centered amusement.<br /><br />We spent an evening pub crawling around Burlington and ended up at a decent Irish pub for some meat pies. En route to our final destination we played some darts, participated in a trivia contest, and checked out a few nice little stores.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBXUDs6HnmJH0vfZIS6q_2sB3UhgXGZkoawQZDphxXSizf5xTGHDhaaJQxusXR3KJHNTihBIqtz2JgcGxgmr4yGczu6MrwmfWRkc_vla_oxDK29ZyP412BHIbBUF5D_sFwXGOC9GOT-mY/s1600/P9090073.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBXUDs6HnmJH0vfZIS6q_2sB3UhgXGZkoawQZDphxXSizf5xTGHDhaaJQxusXR3KJHNTihBIqtz2JgcGxgmr4yGczu6MrwmfWRkc_vla_oxDK29ZyP412BHIbBUF5D_sFwXGOC9GOT-mY/s400/P9090073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526794116032506098" border="0" /></a><br />The next morning we struck out in search for bagels and we found an absolute goldmine. Tucked away along the waterfront, in an artsy/industrial complex, we stumbled upon the bagel shop pictured above. The bagels are boiled in honey and then wood fired. Everything was locally sourced, from the flour to the cream cheese. This place was easily the highlight of Vermont.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbIOaALBibvZfNT7ILHzwq94FWaTandpLVbn53gCGdlU__LyqY2UcTrcIp9w8B0ddY-T-cQEZdNd6QiQcQq1MNJq4QADTUDjowoysT9d2PKh264XAXLPfm2rKh0fCRDSbnX95Nj1NPbcE/s1600/P9100077.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbIOaALBibvZfNT7ILHzwq94FWaTandpLVbn53gCGdlU__LyqY2UcTrcIp9w8B0ddY-T-cQEZdNd6QiQcQq1MNJq4QADTUDjowoysT9d2PKh264XAXLPfm2rKh0fCRDSbnX95Nj1NPbcE/s400/P9100077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526794127138277954" border="0" /></a><br />Before we headed out along the road towards the White Mountains of New Hampshire, we took Sparky for a swim in Lake Champlain. The air was fairly chilly, but the lake was still very warm. The whole lakefront is semi-developed into city parks and other civic minded things. There are some excellent running and bike paths, playgrounds, dog parks, public boat ramps, and a community sailing center. Key West could learn a thing or five from Burlington, most of our waterfront is pimped to private businesses for the tourists.<br /></div><div><b><br /></b><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLviEC47RGfOKU5o7_rNa7pw5PEZ8xuRAD40G5C3DWbz_AlHCHJ2CG6qY3E6hrOK0PPqakUJYLQmli4lnrROnq5wzRJPBnTLhxCsjdMLElRAgeSXemvHDMh3f9I2vj3s_1E44EBO8DLHGo/s1600/P9100085.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLviEC47RGfOKU5o7_rNa7pw5PEZ8xuRAD40G5C3DWbz_AlHCHJ2CG6qY3E6hrOK0PPqakUJYLQmli4lnrROnq5wzRJPBnTLhxCsjdMLElRAgeSXemvHDMh3f9I2vj3s_1E44EBO8DLHGo/s400/P9100085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526794108288772882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">To Be Continued...<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Ok</span> folks, that seems like a good place to break this story up. Stay tuned for the rest of our adventures in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. And I suppose that once our story take us through Maine, we'll have to road-trip South again.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div></div></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-5267937536698343302010-05-18T14:03:00.003-04:002010-05-20T07:17:44.921-04:00Keys Living<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ18QZ3A1qgUhUfnQU2QMIIyaaBIFsvYYzwV9d4uHxkviR4YqWMrdmJfushsuy2MNVHU5Kybw5uYEOMG9nzdm02GLidVjO25UwJ7rI-x3k7nsHjDZ73dnfkaWhhGVkJFbkkY0qEl_tU8Ch/s1600/100_0383_0056.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ18QZ3A1qgUhUfnQU2QMIIyaaBIFsvYYzwV9d4uHxkviR4YqWMrdmJfushsuy2MNVHU5Kybw5uYEOMG9nzdm02GLidVjO25UwJ7rI-x3k7nsHjDZ73dnfkaWhhGVkJFbkkY0qEl_tU8Ch/s400/100_0383_0056.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472673405944392178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Case of the Missing Squid</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I have a bad habit of leaving squid, shrimps, and other stinky bait in the cooler for days on end after spending an afternoon fishing. Last Monday's fishing trip was no different and yesterday I opened up my cooler to look for a beer koozie and was hit by a wave of stink. As you can imagine, a box of squid smells pretty rancid after spending a week inside a cooler on a back porch in the tropics. Once I opened the cooler, the scent settled in a stinky sort of fog around the back of the house and eventually crept its way up to the front of the house (which also happens to be a spa). I knew I was in a tough spot, so I rallied some bleach and fortified myself with a beer. I emptied the contents of the cooler in a garbage bag, added bleach to both the cooler, the bag, and the garbage can. I burnt some sage and prayed for garbage day to come. After several chemical additions to the back porch, the smell had subsided to a bearable stink and I was content with my actions. Time to crack open another beer and read the newspaper. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So far, this seems like a non-event right? Well, this morning it got interesting...My wife has the olfactory nerves of a bloodhound and insisted that it was still rank outside our house, she wanted me to take the bag of squid juice and toss it into a sidewalk trash can that gets emptied every morning. I agreed to avoid any issues and went out the the garbage can to retrieve the goodies. After taking a few deep breaths and crossing myself, I opened up the lid and reached in. To my surprise the can was empty. "Hmmmm, it must be in the other can", I thought to myself. A quick look into the backup can left me a tad confused, the bag of squid was gone. After a thorough search of the deck and my memory, I confirmed that the bag indeed had been taken from our garbage by somebody. Let me say that again, somebody hopped the 6 foot tall fence that surrounds our house, took a rotting bag of squid from our garbage, and disposed of it for us...Who would do such a thing? I have to admit that I am quite befuddled as to who would be such a garbage diving samaritan. They ignored the fishing poles, bikes, assorted tools, and simply went for a stinky bag of squid. I'm still scratching my head. Maybe they couldn't take the stink any longer...</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Key West Post Oil Spill</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Ever since the oil spill, the talk around town revolves around exactly how screwed we all are.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There is a general consensus amongst the boating crowd that the Keys are going to effected, either by the actual oil or more likely by the rumors of the oil which is causing people to cancel trips. I've been getting in the water at the reef pretty much everyday for at least a quick snorkel while all the paying passengers are in the water, in the back of my head I keep saying to myself, "Well this all might be toast next week". On the other hand, the boating crowd has been saying that the oil has been a few days away since a few days after the spill. The big problem is that most of the people here don't actually read too much news and treat bar talk as a legitimate news source. I'm not saying that all the guys down here are full of crap, but I'm very aware of the fact that a bunch of the guys down here hype things up very much. From what I understand, we're looking at oil starting to show up within 5 days or so. A couple of good sites to follow, that seem pretty reputable would be <a href="http://www.keysspill.com/">Keysspill.com</a> and our <a href="http://keysnews.com/">local newspaper</a>. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Fun on the Water</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>A couple weeks ago, I got the chance to go out fishing with Justine's parents on a boat chartered by one of her friend's parents. We spent the morning trolling offshore, got skunked, and then headed inshore along a couple of mangrove islands for snorkeling, bottom fishing, and spear fishing. I actually had better luck with my spear than with a hook and sinker. My prize catch was this Hogfish, a local delicacy. The only way to actually catch one is by spearing it. Now, I'm pretty much hooked on spear fishing. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw081ocTgJeBpLG5OrwPGYaMp8pmY22StQDz3tu0qUtAkYngFhEm2KYLx-zv1N6c946-SnuhQRbqfBrLRiLTf5yJb3w4rCMnYCseuReTI7buDzKGfeelo2UtfSc8LBMDJ_vElYnEGRagg/s400/100_0394_0045.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472939399335536370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiflPH1Vb_5r-z-qrot9XfkioDKlz6dkCUhTEGKoWXo1IR6GiJZXxptl4TNneooQpGmc0tPU8a1twTx2AFFbE6AKgU5YpSQIhE_AJfVZhT8smtG5cZ-q0VRqVLF8aR8envPoi_OFvovh88D/s1600/100_0396_0043.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiflPH1Vb_5r-z-qrot9XfkioDKlz6dkCUhTEGKoWXo1IR6GiJZXxptl4TNneooQpGmc0tPU8a1twTx2AFFbE6AKgU5YpSQIhE_AJfVZhT8smtG5cZ-q0VRqVLF8aR8envPoi_OFvovh88D/s400/100_0396_0043.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472939409919416098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw081ocTgJeBpLG5OrwPGYaMp8pmY22StQDz3tu0qUtAkYngFhEm2KYLx-zv1N6c946-SnuhQRbqfBrLRiLTf5yJb3w4rCMnYCseuReTI7buDzKGfeelo2UtfSc8LBMDJ_vElYnEGRagg/s1600/100_0394_0045.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw081ocTgJeBpLG5OrwPGYaMp8pmY22StQDz3tu0qUtAkYngFhEm2KYLx-zv1N6c946-SnuhQRbqfBrLRiLTf5yJb3w4rCMnYCseuReTI7buDzKGfeelo2UtfSc8LBMDJ_vElYnEGRagg/s1600/100_0394_0045.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw081ocTgJeBpLG5OrwPGYaMp8pmY22StQDz3tu0qUtAkYngFhEm2KYLx-zv1N6c946-SnuhQRbqfBrLRiLTf5yJb3w4rCMnYCseuReTI7buDzKGfeelo2UtfSc8LBMDJ_vElYnEGRagg/s1600/100_0394_0045.jpg"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>In Closing</b></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Life down here is going well. It's hot, like mid-80's and humid hot. Spending my days on the water is great, it's different every day. I'm learning a ton about sailing and seamanship. Let's hope the oil stays away and BP figures out how to fix the mess they created. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Cheers. Ben</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjDFVAmsm-iWYA9bwq8oDVdeyGIfZTN1wW0VetiZz7vB5RUeczZdxZ88ClFKOQBopLRGxjzdLdPuYVA4gl9LBz8L6n838c02ankOVJu2IoWUiPzt7ywEtuDP8HJltIDEONJ1Ldf0v0kTw/s1600/100_0373_0004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjDFVAmsm-iWYA9bwq8oDVdeyGIfZTN1wW0VetiZz7vB5RUeczZdxZ88ClFKOQBopLRGxjzdLdPuYVA4gl9LBz8L6n838c02ankOVJu2IoWUiPzt7ywEtuDP8HJltIDEONJ1Ldf0v0kTw/s400/100_0373_0004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472673397519080546" /></a><br /><br /></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-63464504935495778902010-04-23T18:06:00.004-04:002010-04-26T14:33:14.063-04:00Life in Key West<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJbTgZLlHgGRt9nP9gkjsWjVchF4wuxG_YkXzEcOHcUBRTxsYDNpo08yquovsFuU2dq7qfM5RlnkZ0iDnKB4C7lZA7P698n15qU6KvH2TuIZ2zkzfB0Bg_Of7oaZvTrxIU054XlxLcIYQ/s1600/100_0291_0065.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJbTgZLlHgGRt9nP9gkjsWjVchF4wuxG_YkXzEcOHcUBRTxsYDNpo08yquovsFuU2dq7qfM5RlnkZ0iDnKB4C7lZA7P698n15qU6KvH2TuIZ2zkzfB0Bg_Of7oaZvTrxIU054XlxLcIYQ/s400/100_0291_0065.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463458393369301810" /></a>Life in the Keys doesn't get old. I spend my days at work around sail boats and catamarans, my days off are spent snorkeling along beaches and reading in the sand. Work mornings begin with coffee at sunrise and days end well after sunset with beers at the wharf-side bar. Days off are a combination of sail boat repair, searching out good snorkeling beaches, and great times with the wife. <div><br /></div><div>Things certainly stay interesting working as a mate on sail boats. The first thing the owner of the boats I work on said to me, "Hey, there isn't a job description for this job. If I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you get that?" A couple of days ago I fully appreciated that statement as I found myself bleaching out a gnarly galley kitchen that hadn't seen a scrub brush in months. But I guess such is life as the lowest ranking mate in the company. All of the menial tasks on the dock are worth it as soon as the captain yells, "All lines ashore" and we head out for another day out on the water. I was working with a captain a couple of days ago at a very trivial task assigned by the owners, which was menial to say the least, and the captain happened to also have an English degree. We had a chuckle about our shared course of education and commented on the fact that at least with our large vocabulary we knew several synonyms for the word 'menial'.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mate work on our boats is a fine combination of sailing skills, snorkel instruction, life guarding at the reefs, janitoring, small-talking with tourists, and most importantly bartending. It's an interesting blend of jobs I've held in the past with the definite perk being that the view from my office is always the beautiful ocean, mangrove islands, and historic Key West harbor. All of my time spent sailing aboard the catamarans gets logged in the accumulation of hours towards a captain's license with a sailing endorsement. I guess that is the end goal of everything. It's funny because so many captains, not so much with my company, but with a number of other outfits have a 'holier than thou' attitude towards mates and I have to chuckle because they had to put in their time to get there. They can't pretend that they weren't low mate at one point, because it's all about getting those hours.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I don't really have much to write about. Stories about charter trips out to the reef with tourists, days off spent exploring snorkel spots or rigging my little sloop, and nights spent having beers with my wife at The Green Parrot just aren't ready to be written yet. I'm really getting into spear fishing just offshore at little reefs I can swim out to, but I don't have any great stories or tall tales to report on.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's funny at how easy it is to ignore the outside world and politics down here. In California we lived in the 'Redwood Curtain' and now we live in the 'Conch Republic'. Last week we actually celebrated the 28th anniversary of the Keys' attempt at seceding from the US of A. It was a week of drag queen races, bar parades, sailing races, and attempts at throwing rolls of toilet paper at the local Coast Guard boats. I get kind of pissed off when I read the national and world news. I'll browse the papers, keep informed enough, but anymore I don't even care. I would much rather read the sailing magazines, think about fine tuning my rig, or talk shop with the other sailors and fishermen on the bar stools next to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>We'll catch ya'll later. God Bless. Cheers.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Tev9w2PzpBRCXUCI7tqPlPNut8Vseqxkgt-UvZ8hhe7fUijDEyfJhxQz0GhqcMxJ1bxsxkJND6rI9lcEsIEnqXSTQAnrHZLXGy1cb2w2MB3dDv3jqSqaPsVGA7pZEhUWnqYAHWzkIhA2/s1600/100_0322_0038.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Tev9w2PzpBRCXUCI7tqPlPNut8Vseqxkgt-UvZ8hhe7fUijDEyfJhxQz0GhqcMxJ1bxsxkJND6rI9lcEsIEnqXSTQAnrHZLXGy1cb2w2MB3dDv3jqSqaPsVGA7pZEhUWnqYAHWzkIhA2/s400/100_0322_0038.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463458379148892722" /></a><br /></div></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-12589550282735967062010-03-11T12:45:00.002-05:002010-03-11T12:53:26.112-05:00Sailing Pictures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AFUJG9cfVn7aDlTjsn7n_MEz7s7CraB0iF9D4YrIt0UZvXaPlEPuCQvcOcVDXsUYy86lF1ZwE6X7C18zI-1XhHpMY-m35JyCxi30_U5BR17o7t5cNsnrcN7O0qv03MwPmCCXW9Cw66Yw/s1600-h/101_0263_0085_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AFUJG9cfVn7aDlTjsn7n_MEz7s7CraB0iF9D4YrIt0UZvXaPlEPuCQvcOcVDXsUYy86lF1ZwE6X7C18zI-1XhHpMY-m35JyCxi30_U5BR17o7t5cNsnrcN7O0qv03MwPmCCXW9Cw66Yw/s400/101_0263_0085_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447434758720405602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Jib Sail Dumping Wind</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYEGaujJqYZkVHin1X1Tu2WrL-cfKTQ4QEjlt2Zuno5sLT_Eij4w9084F4mMd1V9Rk5aEZrxIkBweS0nQYMnmHtE_my2oJv6QX16dJoGfH4flDoY10exjuxHasH4Pb0BoGvf76bjudS7g/s1600-h/101_0246_0102_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYEGaujJqYZkVHin1X1Tu2WrL-cfKTQ4QEjlt2Zuno5sLT_Eij4w9084F4mMd1V9Rk5aEZrxIkBweS0nQYMnmHtE_my2oJv6QX16dJoGfH4flDoY10exjuxHasH4Pb0BoGvf76bjudS7g/s400/101_0246_0102_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447434746200500450" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Starboard Tack Looking Up</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN53ITq52ffX09aSc4AOBNmhP-CH874JDY33pZKV9wxWUb4YloRhXXh1NbrIiXRiFe-iToDjt5gIMrSO1j0g4bsYqj1acYBoA2LxI7JxUXgBNMFw_67uzaRJJf-o1hP5ZzUe84nkDqrkJJ/s1600-h/101_0251_0097_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN53ITq52ffX09aSc4AOBNmhP-CH874JDY33pZKV9wxWUb4YloRhXXh1NbrIiXRiFe-iToDjt5gIMrSO1j0g4bsYqj1acYBoA2LxI7JxUXgBNMFw_67uzaRJJf-o1hP5ZzUe84nkDqrkJJ/s400/101_0251_0097_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447434740958859058" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Justine Enjoying The View (you can see that reef underneath the boat)</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3itzeACAP13PAQCsrh0gg4I8svxaRvuBeXYarC8uf8P9DlRj7RajmBE9HOMxJr06LkHJjnKwge3IixLQJKoGE_Do4-Pguf1SxuJeRvUHA_StgezU2PCyMXiERfiyV-3vvq0wvnzO4zDyr/s1600-h/101_0266_0082_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3itzeACAP13PAQCsrh0gg4I8svxaRvuBeXYarC8uf8P9DlRj7RajmBE9HOMxJr06LkHJjnKwge3IixLQJKoGE_Do4-Pguf1SxuJeRvUHA_StgezU2PCyMXiERfiyV-3vvq0wvnzO4zDyr/s400/101_0266_0082_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447434726647100018" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Pulling Off the ForeStay</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-82963556640820968062010-03-10T15:15:00.003-05:002010-03-10T15:47:40.705-05:00A Few words about the Sloop<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmSM1RRGkb_1as4XbLT0U6ShwTq6Nbts99xez3R_jULAXxpEmUi3DviAUCR-5aY1GCHlJqig_F-KNLOi2CMVDuQHPZ_J_eOr5FprPmTcd1p7CRySFMWas0b5bEvLBMrMxYBp8dItkyFaSo/s1600-h/101_0238_0110_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmSM1RRGkb_1as4XbLT0U6ShwTq6Nbts99xez3R_jULAXxpEmUi3DviAUCR-5aY1GCHlJqig_F-KNLOi2CMVDuQHPZ_J_eOr5FprPmTcd1p7CRySFMWas0b5bEvLBMrMxYBp8dItkyFaSo/s400/101_0238_0110_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447101610770939922" /></a><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It's a beautiful little sloop. Great lines, shallow draft, room for four to day sail, or rigged for an experienced solo sailor. I bought/traded for her from an older sailor in Carolina Beach. He had a yard full of grime covered boats and was glad this one would get back into the water. She was built over 40 years ago and most of the gear is original. Original sounds good, but it means that she needs a ton of work. She'll sail fine, but all of the hardware is ready to be replaced. After trailering her down from Carolina Beach, she sat in a spare lot for a couple of weeks until the weather cleared. For the past month we've had her in the water at Cudjoe Key and have taken her out for several day sails. Now that I've got some time on my hands and decent weather, the sloop has been pulled out of the water and I've set to restoring her in time for the April sailing club races. She's getting a new forestay, turnbuckles, a fiber glassing, paint, and bright work. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSLsfWGt3eBlouzvXNt3dAHxyO5grn-PZbNnotC8jLk_Tqo5Y9nJPpeYmtDgNrTU06Ry7kDTpXe_wIhBmLOcDv2FeR-ir8-wcFYnphhKuhGd-9Hrq2aHGdoyabnXy2sqOjcfyeYiTevNV/s400/101_0243_0105_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447107307769976082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-86985290857967630112010-02-25T10:28:00.005-05:002010-02-25T11:18:29.874-05:00A Post in Which the Author Admits that Puppies are Useless and Rambles on About Sick Days<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTuF8s8CuLcRc_Wz9L51qQxa_wSmdnevcLiPNW-C0xqE_v_Kfb5lzSXtb6aTJYPGSoA3R6OuxvoPEHh8r5Pa6Qrxwl-awvaXlkXJVb_3Ade_1Fxht7VL-HSMYrJi-lsassHvUKc7H86ov/s1600-h/101_0094_0060.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTuF8s8CuLcRc_Wz9L51qQxa_wSmdnevcLiPNW-C0xqE_v_Kfb5lzSXtb6aTJYPGSoA3R6OuxvoPEHh8r5Pa6Qrxwl-awvaXlkXJVb_3Ade_1Fxht7VL-HSMYrJi-lsassHvUKc7H86ov/s400/101_0094_0060.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442216168005401746" /></a><br />I called in "sick" to work today. The circumstances which led to this fine exercise of employee rights are various and somewhat humorous, but better left to be written about after I've had a couple of beers. Needless to say I was in no mood to spend this glorious day cooped up at a crappy animal shelter. For the past couple weeks, I've thought about calling in "sick" each morning while I sip coffee. Every previous time, I'd pushed aside the thought with feelings of responsibility. Today though I had a breakthrough. <div><br /></div><div>Last night I was duped into fostering a little puppy for the evening. Usually other people at work take the puppies home for the night. I have no use for puppies, especially puppies interrupting my leisure time. I was assured that this little she-devil-bitch-of-a-terrier puppy slept peacefully through the night and would be little more trouble than setting out water and walking until it peed. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was lied to. This spawn of the devil kept me awake the entire night yipping and trying to escape it's kennel. I ended up going into the spa attached to our house at two AM, finding the room farthest from our bedroom, dragging the puppy kennel into the room, plopping down on the ground with the damn thing, and trying to keep the hellion quiet. </div><div><br /></div><div>Needless to say, I was in no mood to work today. As soon as it got light, I drove that damn dog back to the animal shelter, put it in my bosses office, and left a note on the desk informing her that I was unable to make it into work today.</div><div><br /></div><div>Man, I got one very angry phone call when the office opened...It was your standard "you need to be more responsible, etc" spiel that one could expect. A combination of attempted guilting and prioritize employment in your life. It just so happened that I got the phone call as I was driving along this stretch of road along the Atlantic Ocean, a sailboat was running along with a fresh breeze several miles out. I had to roll my eyes, politely inform my boss that I indeed would not be making it into work today, and continue on with my day as planned.</div><div><br /></div><div>I read this book in California called, "The Art of Vagabonding". The main thrust of the author's philosophy was that the one truly finite resource in one's life is TIME. And the most responsible choice a person can make is to spend one's time wisely and in pursuit of your true desires. Today, the best use of my time is to nap off the memory of that stupid puppy, eat a massive breakfast, buy my wife a birthday present, walk along the wharf staring at the schooners, and then have a beer in honor of my wife's 25th birthday tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-28021177015574977852010-01-10T16:20:00.005-05:002010-01-12T11:14:16.939-05:00Fond Memories, a Ramble Down the Coast, and Thoughts about Life in the Keys So Far...Almost a year after leaving California for North Carolina, I found myself on the road again towards a new town and new adventures. My wife and I decided to make the move to Key West after she got offered a great job managing a spa. Last winter I drove across the country in a van and this past week I drove half of the East coast with a loaded down truck, pulling our sloop filled with surfboards and gear on a rusty trailer. It was my first time pulling a sailboat more than a few miles and it was hairy the whole time. I'm glad I took the advice to get the trailer looked at and replaced the hubs and bearings. I saw several dead trailers along the road missing wheels or with broken axels. I usually enjoy long drives through new scenery, but pulling a trailer through winter weather is tricky to say the least. The trickiness factor is raised a bit when you throw all of your belongings into the back of the pickup truck, add an excitable dog, and top it all off with a two day old hangover courtesy of long night with a good buddy watching my beloved Boilermakers do what they do.<div><br /></div><div>Leaving North Carolina for points South, I got a little nervous about things ahead and unknown. Thinking back on the past year on Pleasure Island, I had to chuckle a bit at my lack of a 'real' job. I was employed fully the entire time, but I never had to punch a time clock or sit in a cubicle. My days consisted of rampaging around high end golf courses in a John Deere Gator in search of wily Canadian Geese, kayaking around with families of tourists, or blazing up the inter-coastal waterway on jet skis with tourists in tow. I did work in an office for almost two weeks, but I just couldn't stand being inside on beautiful spring days. The fact that my boss was a raging mega-b@#ch, in every sense of the word, made the 'I Quit' phone call even easier.</div><div><br /></div><div>My point is that since arriving in North Carolina, I had been in sort of a semi-vacation mode. Hell, even in California, I was on semi-vacation for the last year or so...day-time bartender is a job I would volunteer for. Here in Key West, the game starts all over again. There are people to meet and routines to get figured out. My strategy in new towns is generally to pick a good local bar and meet all of the crusty locals at the bar during Happy Hour. I'll let you in on a little tip...Enjoyable jobs are rarely found in the classified ads or on Craigslist. You get the fun jobs by meeting people and buying people beers. That old guy next to you on the bar stool may own a sailing charter business or a kayak tour concession. He needs to see your face several times and remember that you are an all-right dude before he lets on that he might be able to squeeze one more guy onto the schedule. It will be interesting to see how things pan out here on the island.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a couple of days here in Key West, I'm pretty stoked about the lifestyle and possibilities. I'm ready to get things unpacked and settled down, because then the exploration can start. Sparky and I have already been on some nice runs around the island and through the state parks. </div><div><br /></div><div>We had a record low yesterday, it was 42 degrees. The locals were freaked out and wearing every scrap of clothing they had, at once. It makes me chuckle a little bit, the rest of the country is shoveling snow and that qualifies as frigid weather. It's going to be in the 70's the rest of the week.</div><div><br /></div><div>The political scene is funny down here, it's pretty far left. I can appreciate the liberal attitudes, but I get so tired of hearing talking points from the left. I get equally pissed about hearing about talking points from the right. I just wish that people would read newspapers, books, journals, and then make up their own mind. Both parties and the media are equally vested in keeping people in a constant state of frenzy about some little unimportant piece of political gossip. I thought it was funny that the media cycle has been talking about this 'tell all' book written by advisors to Obama and McCain. They keep going on and on about what amounts to gossip from a couple of guys trying to make a buck. If all of this information is so damn important, then why didn't they tell us about it a year ago? We're talking about that BS and what Harry Reid said about Obama...Who gives a shit? Does anyone really live under this impression that Reid and his ilk were these shining examples of virtue? We should be talking about real issues that need contemplation and discussion. As for me, I'll remain skeptical about the whole shebang. </div><div><br /></div><div>Keep on keeping on. Cheers. Bah. Stay Tuned...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>. </div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-87942298020314285282009-11-04T20:10:00.003-05:002009-11-04T21:09:25.676-05:00Nothing Much...Our sloop is tied up to the dock in front of our little apartment. We've taken it out a couple of times since Sunday, but it's tough to get the timing on the tide, sunlight, and wind to work out in our favor. Going out for couple hour sessions after work is my hope, but our waterways locally are pretty tidally influenced. A strong incoming tide and we get pushed towards the Cape Fear River and the outgoing tide pushes us out the inlet. Once we're a little more confident under sail, we'll be tearing up the waterways.<div><br /></div><div>I did get out for a nice long afternoon on the beach with my lady and Sparky. The weather is just spectacular, 70's and sunny. Dogs are finally allowed on the beach again and Sparky need some work on the long line. I'm trying to get him to work with dog whistle signals. It'd be pretty badass to whistle commands at him.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent an hour out in the water surfing at the end of the day. There were some solid waves rolling through. I've pretty much been surfing the pier at the north end of Carolina Beach nonstop since the end of the summer. There's a pack of little kids that surf a few hundred yards down the beach, but nobody really surf right next to the pier. Maybe it's the big sign that say's 'No Surfing Zone'...I just don't know.</div><div><br /></div><div>Still trying to fix the camera...</div><div><br /></div><div>Bah.</div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-38634442519814565392009-11-01T18:02:00.002-05:002009-11-01T21:06:10.788-05:00The Sloop is in the Water!We finally put our 17ft <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Paceship</span> Peregrine Sloop in the water. It's tied up in front of our place as I type. I'd love to put a picture of it up online, but our digital camera apparently gave up the ghost within the past few days. Those freaking cameras work for maybe a year and then turn into paperweights. I'm tired of dropping $300 every year and a bit for fancy desk ornaments. We raised the jib sail for a brief time, but the wind was really whipping and the marina was full of boats, so we motored around for a bit and then heading towards our house. We'll break in the main sail this week when fewer people are out and about on the water.<div><br /></div><div>I had a nice long rant about big <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Pharma</span> and the flu vaccine all lined up, courtesy of a nice piece of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">propaganda</span> from 60 Minutes I just watched...but I hit the old delete button. No need to beat a dead horse. If you can't see through all of the scare tactics/blatant lies, then I'm not going to convince you of the massive conspiracy which has overtaken the whole shebang. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll try to get my camera fixed, or maybe somebody can donate one to the cause. Catch ya'll later. We have a chilly week coming up around here, highs only in the 70's...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-84511568805868472322009-11-01T11:25:00.002-05:002009-11-01T11:30:00.550-05:00The Chinese Made It Snow...I came across a headline on Drudge about how the <a href="http://ph.news.yahoo.com/afp/20091101/tap-china-weather-beijing-snow-8d4ea94.html">Chinese are modifying their weather by seeding the clouds with chemicals</a>. Does that seem like BS to anyone else? I remember in California there would occasionally be news reports about dangerous pollution levels due to Chinese smog which drifted the several thousand miles across the ocean. Maybe they should stop treating their environment like crap...Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-60810655520749462702009-10-27T13:17:00.004-04:002009-10-27T16:07:40.227-04:00A Couple of Waves and a Pod of Dolphins<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxueno00e5z0PmjDzR84vWfqCVIaYBeJw70REYAgwNd6kgXH0KJHoW5sLB5qMFoCOGDb9MrTPt1HX1Ix6ZhIlu87MklOKdoD3iRyGkMLXB-nTxRF7rv5D4vBDxWqJCNnaVXu50fefLo5R/s1600-h/DSC04392.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxueno00e5z0PmjDzR84vWfqCVIaYBeJw70REYAgwNd6kgXH0KJHoW5sLB5qMFoCOGDb9MrTPt1HX1Ix6ZhIlu87MklOKdoD3iRyGkMLXB-nTxRF7rv5D4vBDxWqJCNnaVXu50fefLo5R/s400/DSC04392.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397361983890519922" /></a><br /><br />I went for surf last night and another one this morning in gray, dreary conditions. Sitting out there in the brine, you couldn't tell where the steely gray ocean ended and the horizon began. Every few minutes there would be a brief downpour of rain on the ocean, smoothing things out and at the same time adding a million little splashes around you. When the sets started to roll in, there would be a slight difference in the color of the water in contrast to the sky. It's crazy to see really, just little differences in the texture of the horizon or in the shade of gray. Schools of fish were cruising around the pier and pods of dolphins would take turns snacking on the fish and jumping through the lines of swell. At one point last night, I was surrounded by dolphins splashing about in trios. Towards the end of my session last night I was paddling into a solid chest high wave and all of the sudden a dolphin popped out of the face of the wave and landed ahead of the wave, as if to say, "Whoa buddy...This is my wave". I ceded that set to the dolphins and paddled down the beach. <div><br /></div><div>I have never had an actual, conscious thought while in the act of riding a wave. Driving to the beach, I may have a million thoughts running through my head. But as soon as I take that first stroke into a wave, my mind goes into a wonderful, serene blankness. Life ashore just doesn't matter sitting out there in the ocean, staring back in towards houses that nobody can afford and out to sea towards that last great wilderness. In the water there are more immediate concerns like position in the lineup, current, slight changes in wind, and the next set which is stacking up on the horizon.</div><div><br /></div><div>I actually just got back from the beach. I drove south into Kure Beach to check my PO Box and survey the waves at the Kure Beach pier and farther south at the Fort Fisher cove. At high tide, few spots will break without a big swell. The waves at the pier were rolling through and I threw on a wetsuit top, grabbed my board out of the truck and walked down to the beach. Without paying much attention to the beach surroundings, I simply walked to the shore, felt the water, and paddled straight out. I just needed a quick dip to clear my head from a morning/afternoon of calling golf courses to set up contracts. I paddled straight out into the waves. A set quickly started rolling through, I turned my board around, and paddled straight into a nice little peeler. A few turns later, a couple toes over the nose, and a close out barrel...I found myself in knee deep water looking up at an obese cop whistling at me. He looked rather out of breath and angry. I looked around and determined that I was indeed far enough from the pier (NO SURFING WITHIN 500FT OF PIER!). Out of courtesy, I walked in to hear what he had to say. Just for the record, if I thought I was going to get a ticket...I would have turned around and paddled the 2 miles into Carolina Beach and out of his jurisdiction. </div><div>As I walked towards him, I noticed a film crew and several guys dressed as pirates. The <i>friendly </i>police officer (italics=sarcasm) informed me that I was not allowed to surf at this public beach today because a film crew was filming a commercial or something. He said he wasn't allowed to tell me what the project was. I guess this film crew had rented the beach and ocean for the day and I wasn't allowed to be in the water in the vicinity of the filming. I guess a modern long boarder would just ruin the historical accuracy of a pirate commercial. I just had to chuckle as I walked down the beach, back to my truck. Hopefully I made the gag reel of some Hollywood pirate flick. It'd be awesome if a year down the road, I go to a movie and see myself gracefully sliding along a wave in the background of some gaudy pirates hauling a wooden boat up a beach.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway folks-Enjoy the day, stay skeptical, and keep on keeping on.</div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. Did you guys know there is a Congressman named Anthony Weiner? Kind of a funny name, especially when the cable news people address him as "Mr. Weiner"....Do think he ever got made fun of in middle school?</div><div><br /></div><div>Adios!</div><div><br /></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-17299933656037022612009-10-25T16:27:00.004-04:002009-10-26T07:41:37.840-04:00A Couple Barrels and Some ThoughtsMy little slice of coastline caught some decent swell over the past few days, giving me chest to head high waves to play in for the past few days. I went in early to the golf courses on Friday to run off a few geese so I could catch the mid-afternoon low tide and some dredging little barrels. I was itching for an actual wave with some punch to it. Living in California spoiled me when it comes to sizable and consistent surf. I don't really remember seeing it completely flat ever, but then again it was often too big or sharky to safely paddle out. I digress though, we had some great waves over the weekend. I snuck out for two sessions each day over the weekend and caught some really great waves. Just this morning, my last wave of the session ended with a great barrel. It was just what I needed before church. I always forget to take pictures of the waves before I paddle out, but then again...Who has the time when there are waves breaking? <br /><br />Life outside the surf is tumultuous as always. I picked the wrong economy to take on the title of small business owner and freelance writer. I'm gearing up to expand the Wildlife Management (i.e. goose chasing) business into new courses and areas. We've been giving those Canadian Geese a free ride for decades and now I'm going to get a return on all of that government money we invested into preservation programs. We gave them free range of the country for years and now they are certainly overrunning this area. Driving around the area, I'll see geese fly over the road and find myself wandering which addition they are landing in. It's just nerve-wracking to be in charge of your next paycheck. I mean, work <br /><br />Owning a sailboat is a funny thing. Fix one thing and you'll find two more that need attention. It's been several weekends in a row that I'll say, "Well this is the weekend to launch this thing"...And the crappy thing is that West Marine and the other marine supply shops seem to think that the exorbitant prices they charge for the tiniest pieces of hardware or amount of something is legitimate. Apply a common piece of hardware equipment to a boat and you could make a fortune.<br /><br />We went to a meet your candidate function at a local coffee shop/bar and met all of the Town Council hopefuls. They all seemed like pretty decent folks. At what point does the decent local politico become the sleazy politician that makes it to the next level? I was pretty disconcerted to hear all of them talk wistfully about developing parts of the town into bigger, better developments. I was kind of hoping to hear one of them say, "Ya, I'd bulldoze that whole strip of unsightly buildings and turn it into a park". If only Ed Abbey were still alive and running for Town Council.<br /><br />I changed the comments portion of the blog, I'm thinking that the comments section should be open to everyone without an email verification now. So go ahead and comment away. I started putting the web address on my business cards and business brochures, so maybe it'll get more readership.<br /><br />Catch ya'll later.Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-40972091183745889392009-10-20T11:12:00.000-04:002009-10-20T12:51:14.509-04:00To Indiana and Back via Train and Truck<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I made it back to the beach after a long, strange weekend of traveling. I left off of my last post, close to midnight on Thursday night and sitting astride a bar stool at a decent little brewery in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Fayetteville</span> NC. The Amtrak Station in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Fayetteville</span> sits at the end of the main strip through the downtown. After I had secured my tickets and checked out the sterile, lit-by-florescent-lights train station waiting room, I decided my best course of action was to sit in one of the two open bars, sipping beer and shooting pool, until my 2AM train arrived. Anybody who has travelled by train can attest to the fact that the Amtrak station waiting room is a place to be avoided at all costs. The train attracts a certain type of character which makes for a completely unique experience. I've taken a couple of trains in my lifetime and I always meet some pretty weird people. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I'm not generally into smoking cigarettes, but on the road, it's a good way to get into conversations with people you'd never normally be able to have a conversation with. There is something about smokers that is funny. Nowhere else will you see several former strangers, standing around a doorway or under a stoop, bullshitting about life and times. You'll chat with your fellow smoker for five minutes or until both smokes are done, and then go your separate way. At a bar or waiting for a train, if you want to meet people and learn about life in their neck of the woods, then share a smoke break.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, my train arrived at Union Station in Washington DC around 7AM Friday morning and my train to Waterloo IN did not leave until 4:30PM, so I was left with a free day of sightseeing around our nation's capital. I was a bit foggy from a fitful night of dozing aboard the bumpy train, but once I stepped off the passenger car and into the stream of humanity spewing forth towards the offices of downtown DC, I quickly perked up. It was interesting to stroll amongst the politicos on their way to work and look for people I recognized from C-SPAN. After finding a coffee shop and re-filling my re-usable coffee cup (which I always carry, refills are always cheaper), I set off to explore. Union Station is a few blocks away from Capital Hill and the sights of DC. Stepping out into the day, I quickly realized that it was a cold and rainy day. I actually am glad it was dreary outside, it kept some tourists away and left the sidewalks open for me. I walked through tons of museums and government office buildings. It was my first time to the capital, so it was great to see some of the places I'd read about. I was struck by the massive scale of the whole place. The Capital Mall, which is flanked by the Smithsonian Museums is huge. I walked through the Native American, Natural History, and American History <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Smithsonians</span>. I also walked through the greenhouse and Library of Congress. I thought about going into a couple of the office buildings, but their were tons of very heavily armed Storm Trooper looking toughs. It was very eye opening to see the sheer number of assault rifle bearing dudes. They were standing at doorways and I even some a few on rooftop. It seems that Orwell was an optimist.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My overnight train ride was long and often uncomfortable. My seat mate was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">garrulous</span> 60-something. I have my suspicion about his sanity. He's laugh really loud in the middle of nothing. Apparently he worked for some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">geo</span>-thermal consulting firm. I ended up having a couple of beers with him in the viewing car. I went their to get away from sitting elbow to elbow with him and have some peace, but he eventually followed me there and had a couple of Screwdrivers himself. Thank goodness for that, it helped him sleep soundly through the night. Leaving me to get some writing and reading done. Next time I travel by train, I'm taking a little flask of something for myself and I'm going to spend the whole ride in the viewing car, playing cards or something. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Arriving home, it was great to be greeted by loving parents and enjoy a solid Indiana breakfast. It's always humbling to arrive back home to a great big loving family who always have arms wide open. I have a big, awesome family. Contrasting my family background to people who I meet, I always get a little lump in my throat. I've been blessed. I spent the day in Indiana, hanging out with my family. The family dogs are doing great, one is fat and happy and the other is a little one-eyed rascal dog. There was a big bonfire that night, complete with brats and burgers courtesy of my brother's giant smoker grill.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I awoke early Sunday morning and hit the road in my new truck, courtesy of my in-laws. They offered up the use of their Chevy truck for the time being, so I could grow my little business and look a little bit more professional than cruising around in my hippy van.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I made the drive East in a little over 12 hours, which I believe is a family record. I'm back to work this week chasing geese and researching my next article for publication. I'm going to write about a Civil War era Confederate sailor. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Our little sloop is getting put in the water this week. It's almost ready for its first voyage under new ownership. Say a prayer for seaworthiness. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Stay tuned for some pictures in the next few days or once I locate my camera's cable. I'll probably get fired up about something which is happening and try to write an article, but often I think 'what's the use?'...I listened to this discussion by alternative economic forecasters about the future state of this country and it really got me down. Their advice basically boiled down to stockpile food, gold, and ammo. Damn.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, keep on keeping on. God bless.</div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-38276030318398839172009-10-15T22:18:00.000-04:002009-10-15T22:40:14.434-04:00Random Post from the RoadHey Folks. It's pushing 11Pm and I'm sitting in a bar in Fayetteville NC, awaiting a 1AM train which will take me to DC, and then eventually back to Indiana. My wife dropped me off here a couple of hour ago and I've been bar crawling around to get the feel for this place. This is a town of military meatheads and other equally short haired individuals. I'm always struck by the vibe of a bar when it is filled with testosteroned up dudes. <div><br /></div><div>I get kind of a sad feeling in my gut when I am around the military. These guys, for the most part, are the most patriotic guys around...yet the powers that be have been pushing them into pointless military conflicts for the past 50 years. The phrase 'tis not our job to question why, it's simply our place to do or die' comes into mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>I strolled past a memorial here and there had to be a couple thousand names on it of guys that died from this county in various conflicts in the past decades. The fact that they died in 'conflicts' and not 'wars' should piss you off immediately, that is if you know you parlimentary rules. We haven't really been in a bona fide war since WW2, but we've been content sending our boys to bleed in foreign countries without the proper process. </div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't really start out as a peacenik, but the more I'm around these guys...the more tangible the sacrifice becomes. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been doing a lot of reading lately about how wasteful our country has become and a really shitty, eye opening example of that occured a few minutes ago. I was sitting at this Army bar, watching a football game and everyone was drinking out of plastic freaking cups. I was struck by the absolute shitty irony of the situation. Here were these guys, who were employed by the military, about to be deployed to some God-forsaken sand pit of a country, in order to protect our oil interests...and they were toasting to a safe return in cups made from freaking oil! I downed my beer and walked out. It was too much for me. Note to self, make sure to always have my reusable coffee cup on hand.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm off to await my late night train. Tomorrow I'm going to walk around DC and check it all out. Expect more postings. I guess I can officially claim that I'm a freelance writer at this point. I cashed my first check from an article this morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hopefully all of this conspiratorial writing and subversive literature doesn't throw you guys off. If you think I'm full of shit, then call me out. I've been struggling with my views on politics and society lately. I've been reading pretty much nonstop and I feel that my writer's voice needs to come from a place of skepticism of the status quo. I don't appreciate the direction this country is taking and I feel that the pen is the mightiest weapon I wield. Selah And Bah.</div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-85105305625311377662009-09-08T10:48:00.000-04:002009-09-08T10:55:56.824-04:00A Few Pictures from the Labor Day Weekend!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiY-qFvJW72xtIThtJxkIc1FAhN31fOfTUnrAZZ9zT_fns-nbZmBgTjB4rxBxnl5WQVFcNOTH6mHgDXOOMBkWs2fc3Vrsq50b9tgNLZ67WlMbQ6yaN2oCTnzh3QEhJo0P-0Q1QEKhxm7L/s1600-h/DSC04076.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiY-qFvJW72xtIThtJxkIc1FAhN31fOfTUnrAZZ9zT_fns-nbZmBgTjB4rxBxnl5WQVFcNOTH6mHgDXOOMBkWs2fc3Vrsq50b9tgNLZ67WlMbQ6yaN2oCTnzh3QEhJo0P-0Q1QEKhxm7L/s400/DSC04076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379109593214408450" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The Sailboat I want to Rebuild...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg739-sPYmE6mOZZp5rmUHMbFc-6lGd_B57RKnpIXrL_EY_okUDn5V8RAc_tV52W4yFgPNo0Yr2EiKHkNXVC2H-bfTDMmq2Kdv0Su5mmeKmZzUl1Ap3PoCdMhjCtk3vhc-kN5fmmO7C65r2/s1600-h/DSC04107.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg739-sPYmE6mOZZp5rmUHMbFc-6lGd_B57RKnpIXrL_EY_okUDn5V8RAc_tV52W4yFgPNo0Yr2EiKHkNXVC2H-bfTDMmq2Kdv0Su5mmeKmZzUl1Ap3PoCdMhjCtk3vhc-kN5fmmO7C65r2/s400/DSC04107.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379109580552683650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sparky with a Crazed Look in His Eyes...</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlg_JSHflqj5v3QsYOQsgVyn91v5SzfJWSIqoeIOuXGpbtwjhogA1mspuB0lnODyXFO0116As85rGCi1EtTMDfkcBBdCvmHPBjb0zMxsN0oBYi39Yk54yYtcntK_kZsfThnlScCol7nwgV/s1600-h/DSC04077.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlg_JSHflqj5v3QsYOQsgVyn91v5SzfJWSIqoeIOuXGpbtwjhogA1mspuB0lnODyXFO0116As85rGCi1EtTMDfkcBBdCvmHPBjb0zMxsN0oBYi39Yk54yYtcntK_kZsfThnlScCol7nwgV/s400/DSC04077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379109569257397730" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Beers at the Dockside between Jet Ski Runs...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-c0xAU-uJSNS6HrA1sIpfIrPsnSr7adBa49GrMY_ECiutjR0uQIwo5BCHg6iI6ItqGBDMhYclq-RuXGOpKUNGJ_plkkeB0EeYek2K6oF8h0_msPSjo3C_NRpAU4-HW2_rfeswws65rQai/s1600-h/DSC04074.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-c0xAU-uJSNS6HrA1sIpfIrPsnSr7adBa49GrMY_ECiutjR0uQIwo5BCHg6iI6ItqGBDMhYclq-RuXGOpKUNGJ_plkkeB0EeYek2K6oF8h0_msPSjo3C_NRpAU4-HW2_rfeswws65rQai/s400/DSC04074.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379109565140191538" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Refueling...</div></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-43016961556451792962009-09-07T17:32:00.001-04:002009-09-07T18:48:52.709-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhProPnsTXGpPT5rxEQPLBH32aKRi-iHBhkWzCnn_bch0tJ0SLB9J0CFKVcn-NaBGfcwxKEeDEs9CHbV42DaodKLM9Pbgd0GpxNfNifD8FNrKV_eDBTiYyspOeCJYtUT6xqqeQSHVmSBNrf/s1600-h/DSC04078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhProPnsTXGpPT5rxEQPLBH32aKRi-iHBhkWzCnn_bch0tJ0SLB9J0CFKVcn-NaBGfcwxKEeDEs9CHbV42DaodKLM9Pbgd0GpxNfNifD8FNrKV_eDBTiYyspOeCJYtUT6xqqeQSHVmSBNrf/s400/DSC04078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378842684267210402" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The Two Bens Docking Up for Beer.</div><div><br />Thank goodness that the summer is over. The island breathed a sigh of relief today as a steady parade of minivans and SUV's headed over the bridge and back to the 'real world'. It was a long and strange summer, to say the least. I'm interested in things getting back to the way it was last spring when we moved here; empty beaches and nothing but locals in the grocery store. The few business owners who make their money during 8 weeks of the year are pissing and moaning, but my money comes from off the island...so I'm not too bent out of shape. I've realized that a solid majority of the tourists to Carolina Beach are generally of the redneck disposition, so it's no big deal for them the leave a case of empty Busch Light cans and a pack of Winston Light cigarettes butts in the sand. Apparently they think that the incoming tide does a better job of cleaning the beach that a modicum of responsible behavior. A couple weeks ago, I got pretty pissed off with the amount of dumb-asses using the ground as an ashtray and got into a shouting match with a popped collar fratty from UNCW who kept tossing his butts over the railing at the Tiki Bar and into the rising tide. I'm not usually very vocal, but I really can't stand a litterbug. Afterwards, I realized that the written word is probably usually a classier way to voice one's opinions and penned a <a href="http://www.islandgazette.net/content/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=8987&Itemid=78">screed for our local paper (click for a link to the article)</a>. <div><br /></div><div>Anyway...Pretty much since we made the move I was working for a wildlife management company chasing geese away from golf courses and training dogs to chase birds away from air fields. A couple weeks ago, the company decided that they didn't feel like paying me for my expenses and mileage as stated in my contract, nor did they even feel it was necessary to pay me in a timely manner. Naturally I was a bit annoyed with the turn of events and expressed my opinion in regards to them f#$king with me. I guess the fact that I cited the contract and NC Labor Law annoyed them to the point of 'firing' me. Fired is in parenthesis because they didn't actually fire me, they just told me that they were canceling all of the contracts which I was working at the golf courses and needed the work dogs I was using back immediately. Now don't even jump to the conclusion that I was shitty or curt with them, I was very polite and toed the line of the law. They just completely blindsided me and changed the course of my short term plan. It's interesting how things can go from shitty to very optimistic looking in a matter of days. I was pretty pissed about loosing a sweet job at first, but then a couple of days later the golf courses I was working at contacted me and asked me to form my own company and basically do what I did before, except now without the middleman.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thus Caywood Ventures emerges from the shadows, poised to take over the Coastal Carolina goose chasing racket! I'm doing it all 'by the books' and hoping to use this small business to form a couple of other companies within a few years. It's a certain type of giddy exhilaration to start a business and pursue your own paycheck. It sucks to pony up the cash for insurance and workman's compensation, but I'm gonna try to ride this until it bucks me.</div><div><br /></div><div>We bought an awesome dog named Sparky from the pound for the business. He better realize that he's a work dog pretty quick or all is lost. </div><div><br /></div><div>In other parts of life, we just moved into a new studio size apartment on the Carolina Beach Harbor. It's a small little space, but we lofted our bed dorm-style and we're throwing out crap we don't need. I bought a <a href="http://www.paceship.org/model_boat.asp?model_ID=10">17' Pace Ship Sloop</a> and I'm in the process of re-fitting it for use this fall. My ultimate goal will to sail the sloop around our islands and use it to camp on some of the un-inhabited islands which surround Carolina Beach. </div><div><br /></div><div>We lost a good man this week...My uncle, Jim Caywood died on Thursday. He was a solid uncle who always remembered what I was up to in life, he even remembered my wife's name after meeting her years before. I'll always remember how he snuck outside during Christmas Eves at Grandma and Grandpa Caywood's to sneak a cigarette out by his Cadillac. He was lethal with a snowball. I'm holding up a beer to him as I type...</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway...Keep on keeping on. I'll post some pictures this week of my new dog kicking some serious ass.</div><div><br /></div><div>BAH.</div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-30307787603634083482009-09-03T15:40:00.000-04:002009-09-03T15:43:15.176-04:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Caywood Ventures Is Formed!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px;">I've started my own business up...I'm going about the motions of compliance with local regulations and figuring out how this whole thing works. Stay tuned for the outcome!</span></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-25282009678309407892009-07-26T09:45:00.000-04:002009-07-26T10:41:13.032-04:00Ranting and Ravings<div>My wife flew home for a wedding a couple of days ago. When I got back from taking her to the airport I turned off the AC, turned on the Rolling Stones, and cracked a beer. I've been wandering around our little beachfront apartment in swim trunks, sweating my ass off, swilling beers, and getting pissed reading about the worldwide corruption of the political system. It could be the combination of heat, information, beer, and coffee...but I am not happy about the corporate elite who are dominating the world. I just want to live a quiet life of growing my own food and living simply, but those bastards just want to have a thumb on every aspect of OUR lives. </div><div><br /></div>Here is an article from <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/29127316/the_great_american_bubble_machine">Rolling Stone's Matt Tiabbi</a> about those shit-headed assholes from Goldman-Sachs who are in the business of screwing all of us out of our money. The very fact that these scum bags are out there doing this to us while we just sit back and watch 'American Idol' is pretty heinous. The mainstream media has totally failed us when Rolling Stone is out there talking about the real issues of today. CNN spends more time talking about celebrities than true news events. Thank goodness there is a burgeoning alternative media rising up to fill the void left by the corporate conglomerate controlled media. Check out <a href="www.infowars.com">www.infowars.com</a> for some pretty mind opening news and opinion.<div><br /></div><div>I have to chuckle about the news cycle this past week. While cable news talking heads were bleating about the president's comments about Harvard professor Gates, serious shit was going down in the world. Just watch C-Span for a couple of hours and see all of the sobering items which are up for vote that WILL change our lives, but we don't hear a word about. We are about to get taxed on things ranging from toilet paper to kitchen sinks, our choices on healthcare are about to disappear, we're going to get taxed on driving via an Orwellian GPS tracking system in our vehicles, and Obama is getting set to expand our military operations into bases in Africa. It's almost too much for a rational individual who wants to live their own life without the input of a million political hacks who sold their souls to the corporate Man. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just read that our local mayor and town council is up for reelection here in Carolina Beach. The thing is though that they are all running without opposition. Thank goodness for them I haven't lived here long enough to throw my name into the hat, but next time they had better watch out. I'm getting fired up here about politics and real change starts at the local level. If we're still living here in two years, then I will run for a public office. Until that point, I've made the decision to get involved by going to all the public hearings and putting out as many opinion articles which the local papers dare publish. Hunter S. Thompson ran for sheriff is Aspen a couple of decades ago and he ran without censoring himself. He through bricks at everyone, attempting to expose fraud and corruption wherever possible. I am going to follow his Gonzo example and be loud about my opposition. Don't bring your children to the meetings, because I'm going to use profanity when necessary...And it seems that there are few situation which call for the use of profane language like politics.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a slightly more positive note, we finally got some juicy waves on Thursday and Friday. It was almost head-high with some power behind it. I surfed for almost 7 hours Thursday and 5 hours on Friday. My arms were noodles and my nose was crispy by the time the swell got beat down by the onshore wind. I am really looking forward to surfing some decent waves this fall. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for more rants and entertaining stories. Keep on keeping on.</div><div><br /></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-4892310459465503152009-07-19T14:14:00.000-04:002009-07-19T14:55:07.754-04:00Pictures from the Past Couple Weeks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPmaGghz7XJfyvJnM_XBsmOeIHpD4BPCXiTW4IlquMB7QU7RAHwl32MrE2yv-MU_tMMW40nfqBOqpUNldFxy3ioxXgQMRaHKScScypKg-TUZGf1gWN1duMW-u9kVINd_4ZMcTCjyapHCM/s1600-h/DSC03409.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPmaGghz7XJfyvJnM_XBsmOeIHpD4BPCXiTW4IlquMB7QU7RAHwl32MrE2yv-MU_tMMW40nfqBOqpUNldFxy3ioxXgQMRaHKScScypKg-TUZGf1gWN1duMW-u9kVINd_4ZMcTCjyapHCM/s400/DSC03409.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360238311440493874" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Drinks at the Tiki Bar</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNe-8MnbI4gLMcE8gKiqGyHl-RoqqBhv4F8gl_50t3j7so_fUlRrSiqpN5ypdUrJPr8KchMwFdEnFZdjrE7gOyxF7htUfgRdxH7-0yXJMLI_VFDey3k-KC4q3C7gqLXi0NWXOaigDil8v/s1600-h/DSC03722.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNe-8MnbI4gLMcE8gKiqGyHl-RoqqBhv4F8gl_50t3j7so_fUlRrSiqpN5ypdUrJPr8KchMwFdEnFZdjrE7gOyxF7htUfgRdxH7-0yXJMLI_VFDey3k-KC4q3C7gqLXi0NWXOaigDil8v/s400/DSC03722.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360238309422088082" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Beach Cruiser Gang</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJJDySeheyT3khccgNyE-8oybVqeSpmfgrEz5M7YGWTS3Y7Tfmlw_7dsrE4T7jvuV_GNLm8_xYDlY9GFhQeEsdq6BeRPAvgs0famF_GjCf2yVXq1YYWpWchENY89qZnwoGA1cl7RZb0Y0/s1600-h/DSC03720.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJJDySeheyT3khccgNyE-8oybVqeSpmfgrEz5M7YGWTS3Y7Tfmlw_7dsrE4T7jvuV_GNLm8_xYDlY9GFhQeEsdq6BeRPAvgs0famF_GjCf2yVXq1YYWpWchENY89qZnwoGA1cl7RZb0Y0/s400/DSC03720.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360238305976106642" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">My Daily Car Pool</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxezVesVykvrBSRIkSqTiVSmCtA49J_5MkSloYh0E_zIk5t9FtgmmWseWfJIlVqNEoU50dy4akv6lMGcfZ9UIbchdLIELzRwPD9j_y_5pblKvL0fs8R9vcPO4F4UYN9FwPWCtmqp2yaxWQ/s1600-h/DSC03401.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxezVesVykvrBSRIkSqTiVSmCtA49J_5MkSloYh0E_zIk5t9FtgmmWseWfJIlVqNEoU50dy4akv6lMGcfZ9UIbchdLIELzRwPD9j_y_5pblKvL0fs8R9vcPO4F4UYN9FwPWCtmqp2yaxWQ/s400/DSC03401.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360238295282792786" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">My Bad Ass Work Dog Cane</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoW_-Yj1At4XcNbQ0ykNR-smoaY0017mXYA8HUQOaW_A2Coh_V0MIlpnh6knZBsAK28xEb7rXGRioa1mTY_D80hF-ONf7lBMaJPGv1E6NAxq-kXzWjGe50AgVd_TGhsUsFnHfBpRWgN1C/s1600-h/DSC03629.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoW_-Yj1At4XcNbQ0ykNR-smoaY0017mXYA8HUQOaW_A2Coh_V0MIlpnh6knZBsAK28xEb7rXGRioa1mTY_D80hF-ONf7lBMaJPGv1E6NAxq-kXzWjGe50AgVd_TGhsUsFnHfBpRWgN1C/s400/DSC03629.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360238291975500786" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My Pregnant Work Dog Molly</div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369489659714267587.post-30353935191987310612009-07-19T09:06:00.000-04:002009-07-19T14:14:36.224-04:00Summer HappeningsHello folks. Apologies for the lack of postings. Life has been busy this summer. I've been driving all over coastal NC chasing geese and running my work dogs. I've also been working at an island shop giving surf lessons and taking people on kayak and jet ski tours.<div><br /></div><div>The island is packed with sunburnt tourists and vacationers. I've come to grips with the fact that this place gets trashed, abused, and thoroughly used for about 10 weeks out of the year. I don't know what it will be like to walk out to the beach again this fall and not see anything but pelicans and seagulls. The weekly vacation cycle is entertaining though. Every Sunday a new batch of pasty white families excitedly unpack minivans and head down to the beach for that first dip into the ocean and the following Saturday morning they tearfully take one last trip down to the seashore as a sunburnt dad repacks the van. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't complain about tourists though. They allow me to have a pretty sweet side job. A couple days a week I cruise the beach in a little John Deer Gator and pick up beach rental chairs and umbrellas. The best part of the job is taking people out jet skiing and on kayak tours through the local estuaries. There are days where I'll do a early morning kayak tour, then a surf lesson, and then spend the rest of the day out on the inter-coastal waterway taking tourists on high speed jet ski trips.</div><div><br /></div><div>My full time job for FlyAway Farm and Kennels is going well. I've worked on some great dogs who are now chasing birds at Air Force bases up and down the East coast. I get to travel all around our area to high end golf courses to run the dogs on Canadian geese. For the past month I've had to take a ferry each morning to one of the courses. It's awesome that my morning commute involves a 35 minute boat ride across the Cape Fear River. </div><div><br /></div><div>Charging around a golf course with a couple of wound up dogs in a Gator is a great way to spend a day. All of those guys in their little golf shirts and fancy pants look at me kind of weird. There are so many rules and etiquette on the course. I just have to chuckle at all of those guys chasing the little ball around while I get to charge around the course chasing birds and other random creatures.</div><div><br /></div><div>The surf has been minimal for the past couple of weeks. We've had some fun days of surf around here, but nothing to get the blood pumping too much. I'm holding out for some good surf this fall and winter. The water temp is still around 80, which is just about perfect. </div><div><br /></div><div>On the literary and political front of life, I just finished reading through 'The Monkey Wrench Gang" by Ed Abbey. The book is about four eco-minded individuals who are tired of watching their beloved desert be torn apart by corporations. They turn to sabotage in defense of their Southwest country and destroy all manner of things mechanized. It's a great book and brings up some very strong points. The phrase "Resist much. Obey Little" is a central theme of the book. The book is a loose retelling of Abbey's days defending the desert wilderness he loved. The only resource we can't get more of is wilderness. After driving around and across the country for a couple of months this winter I can't believe how much rampant development there is. Here at the beach there are huge condos going up in every vacant lot, condos that will only be used 10 weeks per year. I'm not calling for an all out war on development, but Ed Abbey makes some strong points in favor of pulling out survey stakes and monkey wrenching large corporate development. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, thanks for reading and keep on keeping on. I'm gonna get back into this blog thing, so stay tuned for more postings.</div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div>Ben Caywoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13605316231810310754noreply@blogger.com0