They start them early
I have remarked to several people over the past month about the sheer number of unicyclists around Santa Cruz. Many cycle their way amongst traffic, a rather remarkable feat given the hills right around campus, others along the boardwalk, and even, in a remarkable sight, some have even taken to shredding through the UCSC bike trails.
Where did this interest come from? I don’t know, but I at least know now why they’re all so good.
The above picture comes from Indymedia reports about Santa Cruz’s own self-organized New Year’s Eve party, complete with wiki. Click on the photos for more images of the Pacific Garden Mall (which I mentioned featured in Gillian Welch’s "Wrecking Ball"; did I mention she’s a UCSC alumna?).
Sadly, N and I bowed out of this anarchic festiveness, and I really am quite sad, given a certain esprit de pays mentality, but we did visit some friends up in the North Bay and went to a great show with Les Claypool’s Fancy Band. Gabby La La in particular was amazing (her theremin playing was extraordinary), though I must confess that her CD, which I was so excited about afterwards, is not as exciting. The show was in the Sonoma County Fairgrounds, where they apparently still have actual 4-H style fairs, and the concert itself was in this medium-sized bunker-style conference hall, with lots of people milling about, live sculpting and painting, a hydroponics setup, an Apocalypto-themed New Year’s float, and scores of greco-mythologized woodland creatures on Powerizers (I was watching in envy, though apparently they are harder to use than one might think.).
All told, a wonderful New Year’s Eve, though we did have an ugly two hour commute back at 6.30 after not sleeping and a tense game of Cranium (really, a bit too shiny for me). But even that (the drive, not the Cranium game) had its pluses: I’ve never seen the ocean at sunrise (ahh, the coloration of the Pacific, a subject for another post), and traversing the Golden Gate pre-dawn, with the fog retreating as though parted by its bulk, was a moving experience. Perhaps even more so than watching a man in a chimp mask doing the rock-god strut.
