Mitt liv som Tobin

George had truly come up from the ranks, in the classic co-op manner. He had been athletics manager, kitchen manager and a two-semester house manager in Barrington, the first ever. He had overseen the 1967 change from all-male to co-ed (a "special study" had called for the change) and, since the University had abandoned its Approved Housing program, the U.S.C.A. had done so. He had also ran the U.S.C.A. one summer.

Greetings from Berkeley! It's fantastic to be back here, if only for the weekend. Megan (barks), Matt (ankaerith) and I roadtripped up here yesterday.

It was an incredibly busy week at work, with Kent visiting and lots of meetings. I managed to escape at noon on Friday, and Megan and I called up Enterprise. They had a guy who knew the UCSD campus, who came and picked us up right outside of Sequoyah Hall. We got an awesome little car for three days with unlimited mileage for a mere $30. And then we were off, bumping up I-5 through sunny socal.

Picked up Matt in SJC, stopped at another Enterprise location to add him as a driver.

Took the 405 through Los Angeles, a subject of some dispute...

Stopped at Ralph's in Castaic for some provisions, then continued up through Gorman and Lebec, as always, but at just the right time of day where the sun's steep angle gives texture and magic to everything. I peered to the East, scoping out the fire that's currently threatening Tweedy Lake. There was some smoke, but it didn't look too bad.

Pulled off the highway in Kettleman City for the traditional halfway feast at In-N-Out. mmmm. Megan entered as an In-N-out virgin and left with two bumper stickers. excellent.

Pulled off the highway again at Crow's Landing, drove off the highway into complete darkness. Walked out over the Aqueduct, gleaming in the starlight, water rushing far below.

I thought 11.5 hours had to be a new record for the SF - LA drive, but then I remembered the time that Chris, Toyoko, James, and I were all squeezed into the Golf and driving back after thanksgiving. Interstate five was slowed to a crawl with the post-thanksgiving traffic and the slowness was driving me crazy. With the help of Chris's goading, I was inspired to turn off five to zoom off onto some crazy backroad (I believe "This is what we call the 'illusion of progress'" were my words) that would connect us to the 101. Some ten hours later we arrived in Berkeley, after various oddball stops, such as in SLO to visit/wake up shamster and bobolly and for donuts at the wonderful twenty-four hour donut shop there ("Late night or early morning?" is the clerk's friendly greeting).

ANYWAY. My crazy craigslist adventure turned out to be all that I had hoped. The first passenger had warned that he had "a few boxes," and, emphatically, "BUT NO FURTNITURE!" I was already surprised by the amount of stuff he had piled up in front of his apartment when I stopped by to pick him up. "Only six more boxes!" he said in a voice I mistook for irony but which actually was understatement. Jack certainly lucked out in getting a ride from a craigslister with a huge, almost entirely empty van.

Then there was a couple from the City who barted over to Berkeley to meet me, and who wanted to go "anywhere in LA." They were at the start of a three-week Grand Hitchhiking Adventure, with their first selected destination Deek Creek hot springs. ("You've heard of it?!") They invited me along, and had I not had work to go to and the entire contents of someone's apartment in the van, I just might have gone along. It was a fun ride and they were all interesting people. Jack and I independently decided that Sarah reminded us of Lola from Run Lola Run, and then we had to explain that this was actually a compliment. A police cruiser tailed us as we drove through the Military-Industrial lands of El Segundo in search of fuel; and while searching for Jack's friend's apartment on the UCI campus in the dead of night another cop had cause to drive up in his cruiser, shine his big spotlight at us and yell "get out of here!" in a menacing voice; apparently us recent-college-grad types are Not Welcome in this town. (Being awake at 3:00am in Irvine might itself constitute Probable Cause.)

Sarah and Keith planned to sneek-a-camp somewhere and hitch a ride out 15 towards Vegas in the morning. The chose Ortega Highway as a good spot to camp and to hitch a ride towards Elsinore. I told them about the hot springs there, but didn't mention the murders or the mountain cats; I hope that doesn't count as irresponsible.

I dropped them off on 74, then drove home over new streets through neighborhoods ("Starting in the low $500,000's") that didn't exist last year, over the Oso Parkway bridge. the spatious streets with tree-lined meridians with sound walls and zero other traffic, and back into Mission Viejo and finally down my street, noticing that the number of monster trucks parked outside houses might now exceed the number of minivans, but prehaps slightly fewer American flags than in my August 2002 return.

• a year ago: leaving oscar wilde (the first time).

Wow, these days are incredibly packed. I spent a crazy amount of time at LBL this week, finishing up as much as I could, frantically trying to transfer useful knowledge to those who remain. It's amazing how much more interest is shown in what I've done in the week before my departure. It was fun, though, and I got a lot done, spent a lot of time on the microscope too. Some highlights were going collecting sea urchins on tuesday, and going out to sushi on friday, and then today another grand adventure in the city.

On Tuesday we went out collecting sea urchins at Point Arena, some small town about three hours north of here along highway 1. It was really wonderful -- the thrill of being on a mission, being out in the field. It felt familiar from my time in Alaska, and it was all completely thrilling. We left Berkeley in the wee hours when it was still dark, and arrived in Point Arena in time for breakfast, which we had a great little small-town cafe (asking the owner for directions the cove), and afterwards we picked up some more supplies at the General Store and Mercantile Exchange. I loved the sense of being out and doing field work, being on a mission, the different relationship with the locals when they know you're on a mission, that you work for the government, that you're not a tourist.

We arrived at Pt Arena Cove at low tide and ambitiously set about searching for urchins. The tide had exposed a huge expanse of rocky tidepools, seemingly prime urchin territory. But there were no obvious urchins. We sloshed into the sea and pushed away the seaweed in many a pool, but still saw no urchins. The people at Bodega Bay had told us that Bodega Bay was over-fished but that there would be plenty of urchins ripe for the picking here at Point Arena, but now we were beginning to suspect that they had lied to us to protect their urchins. Our collection permit was just for Point Arena, so we couldn't go anywhere else, and it was looking less and less likely that we'd find urchins here. The tide pools were surprisingly empty. There was an occassional anenome, but mostly the pools were filled with various forms of kelp and nothing else.

Determined to find some urchins, I decided to explore up the beach. At the end of the cove there was a rock outcropping that had to be scaled, and I climbed around the rocks until there was another beach, and then I climbed down into the sea again, into a fissure between two rocks large enough to walkthrough and only knee-deep in the sea. Still no urchins. But I saw barnacles on the rocks, and I remembered that there were barnacles on the rocks at Bodega near where there were urchins, so I pressed on. And then there was a beach, and I walked out into the tidepools, and there it was --- a field of purple! quite literally, urchins as far as the eye could see.

Alison and Diane came running when I said there was a "field of purple" "right around the corner." They came to think that "right around the corner" was understatement, but "a field of purple" was an accurate description; it was quite literally an urchin infestation. We worked to collect the urchins as the surf rose with the tide. We threw the little ones back, kept only those of a ripe old age, nudging them off the rocks and out of the holes they seem to dig themselves into. Then there was quite an operation of shuttling bags of urchins (their spines still prickly through a jansport knapsack!) back to the ice chests on the other side of the rocky outcropping. As the "billy goat" of the trip, this was my job, and diane and alison collected more urchins from the rocks.

The harvesting was completed in the nick of time before the rising tide closed off the path to the urchin mother lode. We packed the urchins in styrofoam and ice and sea water, into ice chests into the volkswagen, and then we set out again on the return journey, not wasting time, for there was a 36-hour preparation awaiting these sea urchins at the lawrence berkeley lab, and alison had to be there for all of it.

Now the sun was well risen and the coastal forests and the seascape were awesome before us. Alison slept in the back of the van while we zoomed past Ft. Ross and turned inland to take California 116 into wine country. 116 is a lovely road through redwood forests and along the Russian River. The best part is the little town of Monte Rio, where 116 intersects the Bohemian Highway (no one knows where it goes), and we dallied only momentarily to visit the highway and the idyllic old riverfront hotel and all the beachgoers frolicking in the river.

The most surprising part of the drive home was when we came across a pasture in which, yes, three ZEBRAS grazed. I spotted them out of the corner of my eye, then reverssed for a closer look. The zebras came galloping down the hill and into the pasture to say hello.

We got back to the lab around 8pm, and Alison set about taking care of the urchins. Diane and I went home, and I fell asleep immediately and slept until nearly noon the next day, exhausted from all the climbing and the carrying of urchins and not a little driving too. Quite an exciting day "at the lab," I have to say.

Yesterday we went out to lunch at Edoko Japanese Restaurant on University Ave. I'd never been there before, but Diane and I spotted the place one day while driving up University and noticed that they had a $10 lunch buffet. So I selected that place for my lbl last-day-at-the-lab festivity, and the bet paid off hansomly. Edoko has a wonderful assortment of sushi and also a rather large assortment of other yummy japanese food. So there was much yumminess and many rounds of sushi and several people announced they'd be returning in the future. It is a good find.

And then of course I received a parking citation at LBL, which seems to be a going-away present from UC Berkeley as good as they come.

Driving to Orange County tomorrow with a vanful of craigslisters. It's sure to be a hoot.