Beginner's guide to bike-camping Mt Diablo
Nov. 23rd, 2008 | 02:11 pm
I bike camped Mt Diablo August 4th. This is definitely a guide by a beginner for beginners. It was my very first time bike camping. I had fun and I'll do it again, with a few modifications.
First off, Diablo this time of year is HOT. Hot hot hot. My partner calls me The Lizard because I go through much less water than the average person, and I still went through 1 1/2 liters getting there. Keep in mind how much water you've got and where the next available water is.
Equipment: My ancient heavy ill-maintained no-shocks commuter-fendered mountain bike. Hey, I haven't gotten around to getting another bike yet and this is what I've got. I'm a beginner. Also one large pannier (an indulgence from my Seattle bike commuting days), a sleeping bag & pad, and a daypack. One change of clothes, food, and 2 liters water. No stove, no tent; it was warm enough to not need them and I didn't want the extra weight. The bike was lopsided because the pannier was on one side, but this wasn't an issue except for the trail piece of the trip. Even then it wasn't too much hassle; I'd do it again.
Part 1: BART. I took BART to Walnut Creek. It's four miles from my place to BART and I'm used to that trip (35 minutes). It took a little longer than usual with all the junk strapped on the bike rack.
Part 2: Getting out of Walnut Creek. There's a bunch of ways one could do this; I opted for the shorter route with more streets. Take a left on Ygnacio Valley. I took the sidewalk here; there's no bike lanes and they even have signs saying bikes are permitted on the sidewalk. When you see the bike-ped overpass, take a right to get on the Iron Horse Trail (paved). Lovely trail! It just gets better the farther you go. At Stone Valley Rd take a left. There's a shopping center here with a supermarket and some restaurants; this is your last chance to pee and get food and water. I stayed on roads from this point until I entered the park; there's ways to use more trail (paved or unpaved), but I wanted to minimize mileage & save my legs for the climb. There's bike lane or wide shoulder from this point up until Alameda Diablo, so I was comfortable on these roads. Right on Green Valley, left on Diablo. There's actually a path to the side of Diablo; keep your eyes peeled at the turn and you'll see it. Stay on Diablo until Alameda Diablo - about 30 feet after the path ends. This road looks like the entrance to the country club. Don't let that fool you.
Part 3: Starting the climb. Alameda Diablo is a very small street through an incredibly ritzy neighborhood. Take the road alllllll the way back until it ends, then take a right. If you have to pee it's wise to do so when you hit the supermarket at Stone Valley, because this looks like the kind of place where the sheriff will run you out of town for peeing in the woods. No one gave me any trouble though. The climb is really gradual, you barely notice it until back near the end. Then suddenly you're pushing the bike, because for beginners like us pedaling is simply not going to happen on that gradient.
Part 4: the trail. This is the toughest part, but also the prettiest. You're looking for the Green Valley Trail to the Summit Trail. Take a right from the road onto the trail. You might miss the first sign (I did) but see the second one for the Green Valley Trail. If you missed the first sign you'll have to turn around and go back downhill 50 feet to see where you turn (now a left onto) the trail; don't go straight up the Green Valley trail, that's the wrong way. You'll walk back behind someone's house and hit the Summit trail pretty shortly. There's a bridge over a stream (which might be dry). Don't take the bridge; walk straight up the fire road instead.
I was resigned to taking an hour for this last mile. You're climbing something like 600 feet on a fire road over a mile. Go ahead and take your helmet off, you won't be riding at all here. This is where the bike being lopsided was a pain in the butt, because it kept sliding around if I pushed from the left side. On the other hand, it stayed nice and controlled if I pushed from the right, because the weight counterbalanced. I dunno what's best. Anyway. There is some shade here; mostly I pushed from tree to tree, resting & drinking water when I reached the next tree. Take it slow and take time to watch the birds & squirrels & wild turkeys & coyotes. That's why you're here, after all (did you know turkeys really do say "gobble"?). It didn't help that I reached this section during the hottest part of the day. Someone smarter than me probably would've waited for the day to cool some, but I just wanted to get there!
After a mile, you reach Live Oak campground. Nineteen miles total; 1000 feet elevation gain. Five hours to get there, four to get back (these figures include the BART ride & four miles on my side).
Notes about Live Oak: Raccoons. Lots of them. Persistent buggers. The problem with bike camping at Live Oak is the raccoons will be all over your stuff, and you have no car to put your stuff in. They're in the garbage. They're in your neighbors' stuff. There are no food boxes to put your things in. I ended up shoving my bags *inside* the stone barbecue at my site. Next time I'll take a garbage bag to protect my stuff from ashes & grill grease, or rope to hang my bags between two trees. I don't know if they would have left my bags alone if I'd taken just the food and stuffed it in the grill. I do know that they'll try to get in your tent, because one of my neighbors kicked one that was trying exactly that in the middle of the night. Raccoons are nocturnal, so they won't bother your bags during the day.
If you're fit enough to make Juniper camp they have food boxes there (I don't think I could get there with my stuff - 1400 more feet up, but about the same distance if you start from Plesant Hill BART and go up the North Gate road). Both campgrounds have adequate shade, portapotties and drinking water. Juniper actually has showers, but they're only warm if it's warm out. There's no food available inside the park except chips, candy bars and soda at the summit (2800 feet and at least 5 miles from Live Oak) so bring everything you expect to need, plus some extra to make up for the exertion. It's wise to make a reservation during busy times; the campgrounds do fill up. The whole park can also be closed if the fire danger is too high; they recommend calling before you leave to check.
Going back: going back I just went down the South Gate road. The cars seemed pretty aware of bikes, plus it's easy to keep speed since it's downhill (wheeeeee!). I took it slower than I needed to so I could enjoy the views. This road's narrow and has no shoulder, which is why I didn't take it going up to camp. I took a right on Diablo and met up with the route I took in. There's about five or ten unenjoyable minutes on Diablo before the bike path starts on the right side, but you're still on a downhill gradient so you can keep speed decently. I was worried about controlling the bike on the trail going downhill, which is why I came back a different way than I went in. Not to mention wanting to see the views! They're really something.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
just because you have money doesn't mean you're financially savvy
Jun. 4th, 2008 | 08:22 am
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB1212543
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
restless
Dec. 17th, 2007 | 10:01 pm
I'm missing the instant social life of work. What's funny is I didn't even take advantage of that aspect of office life much, especially towards the end. It was difficult to converse with coworkers when I knew I was going to leave soon, but couldn't say anything about it yet.
I'm not sure how I'm going to replace the missing social contact. My friends can't really pick up the slack since they haven't had any time freed up. It's just me that's got the time. I'm really wishing we lived somewhere that lent itself to chance meetings of like minds. I do see folks around the marina, but the only ones that stop to converse are in the yacht club. They're nice, but our lives and opinions are quite different. I'm daydreaming about cohousing again.
I've got another possibility coming up with simplicity/financial work, and that's wonderful, but it's another long-distance one. I'm not sure I'm cut out for the solitude of this long-distance, work-at-home stuff.
The new work is wonderful. It's very different from what I've done in the past, except for one project I did at an internship for my master's ten years ago. It's satisfying. It's really intimidating, though, to be doing something so different. I'm adjusting. For instance, I'm trying to figure out what I can bill. (I've also never been an independent contractor before). I can ask my boss about it - we trust each other so we can talk openly about these things. From what she's telling me, I came to realize that when we're sitting on the phone jabbering about my opinion on another team member's work, *that's billable time*. This is pretty different from database work. Just one example. It's good, but outside my comfort zone.
And my partner's mother... what can one do in these situations? Fred's holding up very well. It's not a surprise, his mother's 82 and been slowly declining for a while. But these things are always strange and difficult. I haven't dealt with this so closely before. I'll be heading to LA on some unspecified date to join my sweetie there, helping out with all the arrangements. Makes it kinda hard to plan life. Not meaning to complain.
Add to that being too sick to really do anything, but well enough to be bored with TV, sleep, and reading. Working out has made me stronger so when I do get sick it's not so serious. I'm more thankful for that than I can say, but I haven't figured out how to sit through the resulting restlessness.
So all these things combine to make me restless. I don't want to sound like a whiner. Things are basically good. But folks pick up on the restlessness when they talk to me and wonder what I'm hiding when my reply of "I'm fine" sounds unconvincing. None of this is suprising to me; I knew a big adjustment period was coming. Here it is. It's just a matter of working through it.
Fortunately I seem to be on the mend, and if I get a good night's sleep I might even try to go for a short run tomorrow. *That* would help a lot.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
the Green Festival
Dec. 10th, 2007 | 04:17 pm
I went to the Green Festival. Though it was a few weeks ago at this point I wanted to share some of it.
There were definite themes this year, at least among the five speakers I saw. All were taking lessons from buddhism. I saw an article somewhere on the western adoption of buddhist principles and how we alter them for our uses. These folks definitely fit the article.
The speakers were concentrating on building the good, not decrying the bad. That's right up my alley. I'm really tired of listening to whining liberals and democrats (despite being aligned with their beliefs mostly). Tell me what you want, not what you don't want. As one of the speakers said (quoting someone else, I think): "Dr King didn't say 'I have a nightmare'."
Every speaker said something about community being more important than possessions. Particularly remarkable given that the Green Festival is really a trade show for environmentally and socially friendly products.
I saw Lynne Twist again. She gave the same talk as last year. This year she was at mainstage and folks seemed to really enjoy it. She told her story about Buckminster Fuller. She had the honor of working with him, and at one talk he was giving he paused and said "This is the most important thing I'm going to say. We now can do enough with little enough that we have the resources and means to provide everyone on earth with a full life." Scarcity is a myth; we just need to start acting on that knowledge. Powerful stuff.
Part of me wonders if scarcity is going to continue to be a myth if our environmental problems get worse. But that line of thinking doesn't, in my mind, change the course of action we should take. What provides a satisfying life is in supply for everyone, I think. We just need to do that, instead of wasting resources for non-satisfying things and providing satisfying things in very wasteful ways.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
On working with groups
Nov. 18th, 2007 | 01:52 pm
The nature of folks who find the book Your Money Or Your Life is they're searching for something. They're not content, because generally those who *are* content aren't looking for something like financial independence. So these groups will attract some problematic people - folks who aren't good in groups - because people who aren't happy are often difficult to be around. So this is one reason I haven't been entirely comfortable with the groups.
Just realizing that will help me be more comfortable - it's not about me, it's about them. But it also makes me think some kind of pre-screening may well be a good idea, to sort out those that are just unhappy and won't be helped by working the program. Some folks in groups aren't happy because of deeper reasons - deep-seated anxieties that aren't really about money, relationship troubles, chemical imbalances, whatever. I've seen them join a group and drop out before; if we could pre-screen them out it could make the group more enjoyable for those who really can learn and use the program.
It also makes me think that an ongoing users' group would be a good place for *me* to get support as well as those who are working the program. The ones who work it and value it will come to the potlucks; the others may fall away as they realize this is one more thing that didn't magically solve their problems.
So I guess I should start a users' group. I can do that.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
more about the worth of financial advice, and why I don't think I want to be a CFP
Nov. 6th, 2007 | 10:08 am
I've been learning about personal finance for quite a while now. I've read half the shelves in the library on the subject, talked with brokers and accountants, played with spreadsheets, filled out tax forms... Friends have asked me for advice on the subject, and I find I often have the answers to their questions. Simple factual stuff like difference between a 401k and an IRA. In considering becoming a CFP, I looked online at the CFP courses and a sample exam. I found I already had some idea of how to answer the sample exam questions.
In talking to the CFP it seemed that the process is to get as much information as possible from the client, and then feed those numbers into software that runs projections and spits out the likelihood of success (ie, not going broke) based on different factors - when the client retires, what types of investments are involved, etc. That's a simplification, of course, but the basic theme was that the client gives the CFP information and questions to be answered, and the CFP, as the expert, comes back with answers and recommendations.
While I certainly think that my CFP contact knows far more about investing than I do at the moment, I also think that I'm perfectly capable of learning all those skills myself. In the end, that's the path I'm on, and that's why I wouldn't put 80 - 112 hours of my time towards paying a CFP to think for me. I'd rather use that time learning. If I spend my time learning instead of earning dollars to pay, I'll be able to use that knowledge over and over again. So the value of my time learning increases.
I also think that in the end a CFP will always have incomplete information about the person they're making decisions for. That reduces the value of their advice, because it will be imperfect - it will fail to take into account some piece of information that didn't make it from my brain to the CFP's process for whatever reason.
The last piece of this puzzle is that my choices don't fit the usual mold that most clients are in. The CFP I was working with was well aware of this and seemed capable of working with it, but models only stretch so far. I'm not sure how well the advice really would have fit me, on the path to FI3. That also reduces the value of the advice.
That's how I justify my statement that I wouldn't pay for the process. The value for me in working with the CFP was finding out how the process *works*. I wanted to learn the process, not pay for the results of the process.
I felt bad about the way things went with my CFP contact, and trying to explain to him and later myself what happened caused me to follow this whole train of thought. In the end that may have been the most valuable part of the experience, because my conclusion was that I don't really want to be a CFP. I'm not interested in either being told what to do or telling others what to do. I'm interested in teaching others how to figure out for themselves what to do. That's not what a CFP does. I see value in the profession because there are many people out there that have no interest in learning the process and most CFPs out there are really trying to do well by their clients and giving them good advice. It's just not what I want to do.
This combined with a couple of other factors played into my decision to finally quit my database job. So thanks, Jim, for being honest with me and helping me to be honest with myself.
Link | Leave a comment {1} | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
blast from the past
Oct. 29th, 2007 | 02:22 pm
I have indeed quit my job. My last day is November 15. I'm cleaning out files on my computer and came across this one from January 2005 that expresses some of my frustrations with my job at that point. I thought it might be interesting to some, familiar to others... for my part, it's kinda cool to see how my life has changed since then. Here goes:
What to do...
This 40 hour a week thing is killing me. Well, not literally, but I am sick for the second time in six weeks. I've missed three days of work both times. Both times, many other folk in the office were sick. We're not a really extreme example of sickies coming in to work, but things seem to get passed around very effectively anyway.
Anyway. None of that's the point, it's just the symptom.
I'm considering cutting back my activity outside work in an attempt to keep myself healthy. The new rule would be I can go out Friday and Saturday nights, and one night during the week. Not more than that during the week. I think I'm simply trying to do too much and that's what's making me ill.
I really, really resent having to cut back on my life for the sake of my job, though. But I'm in this awful bind. I'd like to retire early. More than I can say. I hate spending 40 hours a week doing *anything*, I hate being a slave to someone else for the sake of money. But ya gotta pay the rent, ya know? If I took a part time job I'd be tied to someone else's wishes for that much longer.
I've already taken a non-profit job because corporate life was simply more than I could bear. I turned into a lousy employee and an unhappy person. I did poor work slowly.
I'm happier in non-profit life. At least I can be honest about who I am, what I'm interested in, and what my goals are, and be around people who understand and largely agree with me. I can work on something I'm agreeable to. But I still hate putting my 40 hours in. Is anyone actually productive for 40 hours a week? I doubt it.
So why do we keep up this charade? Because we get more money that way.
But my problem is, if I try to actually have a life outside work, I make myself sick by not having enough down time. That's where I sit today, home sick on my very last sick day. If I keep getting sick at this rate, I'll have to use vacation days for sick days. And I'd end up taking unpaid leave pretty quickly. Not to mention the fact that I'm falling behind at work.
Cutting back my activity so I don't get sick, though, is a recipe for resenting my job. Of course, I do already. I'm very happy to be away from corporate bullshit, but the salary cut is hard to swallow. That many more years of slaving away behind a desk. There are so many other things I'd like to do.
It's not that I hate the tasks involved in my job. There are some that are tedious, but not extraordinarily so. Things are difficult right now because of poor management, so that's not helping. But I really don't think it's this job in and of itself that's the problem.
Every projection I run comes up with at least 10 years to FI, given my current situation. God, 10 years of this. How do people do this? Why do we give the best years of our lives to cubicles? It's a crime.
I have acquaintances who subscribe to the 1-year-on - 1-year-off work plan, but I'm scared to just take off. I want the security of the assets that will support me. I want to be done and not have more years of work hanging over my head in the future. I want to get it over with and not have to grovel for more work after taking time off for reasons that I'll have to try to explain to some manager who'll just think it means I won't stick around.
Fuck. I dunno.
Link | Leave a comment {2} | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
what's the value of financial advice?
Oct. 18th, 2007 | 05:03 pm
Let's break this down. I take home $1800/month (with an additional $400 going into a 403b before that $1800 ever makes it my way). That's for 20 hours a week . Working with his range, this financial planning costs me 80 hours of my time. It costs him 10 to 14 hours of his time (that figure is from the estimate he gave me). We were talking about doing a pretty much 1-1 trade of time for time. I would have accepted 2-1. If I were making what I could in the corporate world, 3-1 would have matched the hours I'd put in working a database job to earn the money to pay for the process. But in my non-profit life, we're talking 8-1.
Taken from his point of view, he's providing a service that could potentially save me (or make me) many thousands of dollars. Say his services show, for example, that I'd be better off with a Roth and save 20,000 in taxes and lost potential interest earned. That's a 100-1 ratio of money earned for services paid for. Why would I not pay for that?
I haven't reconciled the two viewpoints. I'll try to break out the rest of my thoughts on this in the next day or so.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
I'm back?
Sep. 25th, 2007 | 09:30 pm
I'm amazed to find the last entry is almost two years ago now. In some ways I feel like I haven't progressed that far, but looked at objectively, I've made some progress. I am halftime at my database job now - got there about six months after my posts about it. I've also scored a 10 hours/week job working for New Road Map, helping to revise the study guides. So I guess I'm not really halftime in the end, since I'm supposed to be working 30 hours a week now. In practice I'm managing more like 25, but Rozie hasn't complained so far.
This is the kind of work I say I want to do. Actually doing it is difficult and a little scary. It's something I haven't done before or haven't done since grad school, which was ten years ago now. And it's something I care deeply about, so I want to do it well. It's intimidating. I'm out of my comfort zone and having a little trouble adjusting. When I do get a piece of work done it is satisfying.
I'm also currently talking to a CFP (certified financial planner), who's walking me through his process. If I like how this works and think I want to go into that field, and if he likes whatever work I do in return for him and decides he needs help, I may go work for him. I'd leave the database work in that case. Don't know if it'll work out or not; only time will tell.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
Are you happy?
Nov. 25th, 2005 | 11:58 am
I'm reading this book on happiness. No, not _Happiness_, which has come out recently and received good reviews. I'll get to that. The one I'm reading I found online. It's by a gentleman who claims to be a published practicing clinical psychologist and researcher (I keep meaning to look up his citations but hey, I'm still full time right now). He points out that we're good at studying mental *illness*, but not so good at studying mental *health*. He makes a case - almost philosophical - that the point of life is to be happy. I think he's right. Yes, other things are important - to care for others and so on. But if you're not happy, all those other things are infinitely more difficult anyway. And I don't know anyone who's truly happy doing *nothing*, so the world won't stop if we start focusing on what makes us happy instead of what we've been told is important.
I'm prattling on about happiness because it's really one of the things behind the simplicity work. Why do folks simplify? Some simplify because of the environment, or because they see it as a path to social justice. But they stay simple because it makes them happy (I like calling us simpletons. Simple livers is amusing too). Stuff doesn't make us happy. There's good arguments that it makes us unhappy. Social interaction makes us happy. The book talks about this. And it's one of the points of the simplicity movement.
It makes this work more fun than environmental work, too. Show people a way to be happier and they sign right up. Much nicer than trying to convince folks to give up their cars to Save The Earth. The side benefit is that in the course of simplifying, they may very well give up their cars anyway. There's triple-bottom-line for you - finances, environment, and health all win.
The book can be found at http://www.gethappy.net. Note that it is not a polished work. Nonetheless, it's been a valuable resource for me while thinking about these issues.
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
So why did I reduce my work hours?
Nov. 22nd, 2005 | 09:58 am
I hate working 40 hours a week. Never been good at it. Yes, this is a rich American's whine, but that doesn't diminish the discomfort it causes me. I can tell myself that Some Starving Indian would kill to have my job but it doesn't make my any happier about my situation.
I'm not sure there's *any* job I'd like to do full time. Forty hours a week of anything is too much. And that includes 40 hours a week of sitting on my duff. I'm not cutting back so I can sit around.
What I'd like to do is devote more of my time to this voluntary simplicity stuff. I want to use the time I'm about to gain to promote the vehicle which enabled me to cut back my hours in the first place. Blogging is my first experiment in this area - it's a forum where I can practice expressing my views and hopefully get responses from folks besides fellow simplicity activists (are we activists?).
And yeah, I'll take a little of my newly freed up time to smell the roses. That's the lead in to the link of the day.
Take Back Your Time day was just a couple of weeks ago: October 24th. The organizers chose this day because we work nearly nine full weeks more per year than our peers in Western Europe do. If we got those nine weeks back, we'd have from October 24th to the end of the year off. Wouldn't that rule? They're not proposing that exactly, but they do have a short list of proposals including true living wages and mandatory comp time for salaried employees.
I've seen John DeGraaf (the leader of this movement) speak. He talks about the labor movement of the early 20th century. They carried signs that said "bread and roses" - as in, enough money to eat and time to smell the roses, too. That's what I'm trying for. I'm fortunate enough that I have a shot at it; maybe I can use some of the time to bring some others along for the ride.
More on Take Back Your Time at http://www.simpleliving.net/timeday/
Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend
See Ann in mid-leap!
Nov. 21st, 2005 | 10:40 am
I just asked my boss to reduce my hours to halftime. Why? welll... let's get to that in a bit. We've agreed that I'll work 32 hours a week starting in January, and we're going to talk about how to reduce it more.
The intensity of my reaction to actually getting what I asked for totally surprised me.
What feelings have been coursing through my veins?
Guilt at leaving my coworkers in the lurch
Shame at asking for something most folks can't have (or think they can't have)
Fear that I won't get it
Fear that I will get it. Heh. We as a society are good at fear. It's fed to us all the time. Some fears:
What if I don't have enough money?
What if I lose the job entirely?
What if I get bored?
What if the work repercussions (coworkers' reactions, change in work assignments, etc) make the situation worse than when I was full time?
What implications does this have for My Career? This one's really funny. I don't particularly WANT a career. Why am I worried about it? What this fear is really about is 'What if I can't save enough and die lonely and broke and sick and hungry in a basement garrett?
It all boils down to the same thing, really. Ohmigodwhatifidon'thave ENOUGH?!
There's some good stuff too:
Pride at my ability to live simply enough to make halftime work pay the bills. (Scandinavians are taught not to blow their own horn so I don't advertise this much...)
Happy anticipation of having MORE TIME!
So I'll try to focus on that. :-)
