Merkeley in Bezerkley Land...

Toto, we're not in Kapa'a anymore.

We had a great trip to Kauai. Good friends, good food, good wine, good weather, good coffee...you get the picture. I've been to Kauai more than a few times but we managed to do some new fun stuff: I finally made it to Waimea Canyon (incredible), did some hiking, took Little M on her first snorkeling excursion (she'll be back) and found some good new eateries.

Saturday we were back in the East Bay and I got on my bike for the first time in a week. I decided to take one of the local loops through Morinda. Most of this loop is great; East Bay Parks and redwood lined canyons...it's easy for me to forget I'm skirting the burbs. Unfortunately, there's one stretch of dodging cell phone equipped mini-vans, jaguars and lexi that brings me back to reality.

My ride Saturday included one other treat...something I've never seen before in all my hours of riding in the hills and a reminder of the things I love about the east bay. As I made my way back from Morinda, ascending the hills from the redwoods in Canyon, I heard a rhythmic pounding coming from around the bend. I rounded the corner and saw a car parked in one of the turnouts. All I could think was 'Hmm...someone must be working on their car'. As I got closer I realized the pounding was too musical for car repair. Then I saw it...a full drum kit sitting next to the car, in the turnout, in the middle of the woods. A curly-haired rocker was seated at his yellow drums, eyes closed, headphones on, wailing away at the drums. I tried to make eye contact to signal my approval but the guy was in the zone. For the rest of the climb I could hear the da-da-BUM echoing through the canyon and all I could think was 'It's good to be home....dude!'