Tear Jerker!

Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. I was watching some Mormon Messages today and had to post this video. If you haven't seen it, please watch it. (Warning: watch it in private if you worry about people seeing you cry.)

My own Dad could have starred in this video. He is the most unselfish person I know. He literally gives everything he has to his family. I am very blessed to have him as my father.

My father-in-law also could have starred in the video. He is someone who knows the trials of having a wife with MS but would never complain for even a second.

They are both awesome examples to me of what a father and husband should be like. I am grateful for them and hope I can continue to strive to be more like them.

Kayaking the Channel Islands Guys/Couples trip 2010

Thanks to my knee injury I could not do Rainier as planned. Bram and my brothers didn't want to go without me. I told them they should go anyway but I was secretly glad they didn't. Hopefully we can all go next year. We had to come up with a Plan B for this summer. We decided to Kayak to the Channel Islands, not as epic as climbing Rainier but pretty epic none the less.

I have a friend who kayaked with a group, the 12 miles to the first island, Anacapa. In an effort to one up them I decided we should shoot for the second island, Santa Cruz. My friend put me in contact with the guy who led his trip so I could get some advice. When I told their leader of our plans he didn't think it was a very good idea on our first time out.

"My first time it took us 10 and 1/2 hours to get to Anacapa. We arrived in the dark. You guys are biting off quite a bit. Are you all pretty experienced on the open ocean?"

"Four of the five of us have never even sat on a Kayak."

"If I were you guys I would shoot for the first island at best."

"Well, we kind of like to get ourselves in over our heads."

"I think you've done that."

He went on to tell me about the low morning visibility and then the afternoon headwinds and finally the currents that surrounded the islands. All of which were likely to hinder our efficiency. He helped me chart a course that included aiming for an oil derrick when we left Oxnard, then to the east tip of Anacapa, along it's four mile shore line, then from the west tip of Anacapa to the east tip of Santa Cruz finally into a fierce head wind along the shore line of Santa Cruz to where we could camp at Scorpion Bay. He said it would be at least 22 miles, a true epic. Then he wished us luck.

I had to do my usual overstating of our abilities to get the blessing of the charter boat that was to pick us up on Santa Cruz.

"That's a pretty long paddle and there is some pretty stiff wind forecasted for that day are you guys all experienced."

"Oh yeah, we do this kind of thing all the time."

"So you guys certainly have a portable V.M.S."

"Yes, of course." (I googled it as soon as I got off the phone and still have no idea what she was talking about.)

With that let the trip log begin.

Maybe the most incredible feat of the trip was fitting five kayaks on a short bed truck without any special racks. It took us until 1:30 a.m. and we had a 2:45 wake-up call. That meant we were all going into the epic on an hour of sleep or less.

Three out of four Smart brothers ready to sit in a kayak for the first time.

Leaving the harbor for the open ocean.

Free on the open sea.

Finally nearing Anacapa.

Finding a place to beach for lunch was tricky, this was about as good as we could do. Beetle managed to roll his kayak while trying to beach and had to be rescued by Rocky.

Rocky's rescue efforts led to multiple flesh wounds.

When Bram beached he got cut up as well.

Bram exploring a sea cave on Anacapa.

The lunch party got broke up by the Ranger. We convinced him we were capable of getting to the next island and he finally left us alone. But ten minutes later he was back with word of strong winds ahead. He kept asking us the same questions over and over.

"Are you guys all experienced?"

"Yes"

"Do you guys know what a it's like to paddle into a 10-knot head wind?"

"Yes"

He didn't seem to be buying it. Maybe it was the rental numbers on the sides of our kayaks. Beetle couldn't take the pressure and finally came clean with him.

"Actually four of us had never ever sat on a kayak before this morning sir. He's the only one with any experience." (Pointing to me)

The Ranger then proceeded to scald me like I was in junior high.

"You brought four totally inexperienced kayakers all the way out here in scramblers and camping gear. " (Scrambler is the type of kayaks we rented, apparently they are not intended for open ocean.)

He then asked for a emergency contact number. I gave him my home number where all five of our wives were staying.

"I'm going to call your wife and tell her that I saw you and you were alive and had made it this far and that I urged you to accept a ride to Santa Cruz from us, but you guys refused help despite my warnings of strong winds ahead."

Thanks Ranger, that ought to put them all at ease.

Just as we had finally convinced the Ranger to leave us in peace. The rudder on Beetle's kayak broke, making it almost impossible to steer. Beetle didn't waste any time in making a decision.

"Excuse me Mr. Ranger, are you guys still going to Santa Cruz? Do you think I could get a ride?"

About two hours later we would all be wishing we had broken a rudder.

This is Beetle's kayak getting loaded into the Ranger's boat.

What appears like clear water all the way to Santa Cruz. We all were betting the Rangers were just exaggerating. Turns out they weren't. We were soon battling white caps that crashed over our bows and wind that made us feel like we were standing still. It was finally becoming an epic.

After suffering through our ninth, tenth and eleventh hours of paddling we finally arrived at our destination, with Beetle being the first one to greet us.

I think all of us are a little disappointed in any guys trip if at least one person doesn't call us idiots. But when the Ranger refers to you as F-ing Idiots you know you have accomplished something. Word had gotten around the campground that there were five guys paddling over from the mainland and when we finally arrived we were mini-celebrities amongst the other campers. One of the kayak guides on the island used the words gnarly and heroic in defining our paddle. I think I liked the Ranger's words better.

The next day five hotties showed up on the island. I was the first to spot them and immediately called the one in yellow.

We tried two people in a single kayak but it wasn't working out for a multitude of reasons. The first being neither of us could feel our legs after five minutes. We elected to take turns instead.

Sara navigates a tunnel.

Heading on through.

Yours truly paddling through a little key hole.

Mindy paddling 7 months pregnant. I literally called Mindy and begged her to come. It was worth it. Unfortunately she threw up on the boat ride over, but things got better after that.

Here is Mindy on a long romantic walk with Beetle.

Bram and Selenia on the same romantic walk with Rocky and Sarah in the distance.

Bram got called an idiot twice. Once by the rangers and then once by all of us for flirting with certain death for this picture.

That's a long ways down Bram.

Beetle is about 5 feet from the edge and not getting any closer. Right after I took this picture he looked over and asked me if I thought he could make it all the way to the water if he ran and jumped. "Beetle with your compact frame and low center of gravity, absolutely."

A beautiful wife and coast.

This picture is for Roman and Michelle to photoshop themselves in. They went on the hike but they went by themselves and there was no one to take their picture. Sorry guys.

Meet Lola!

Since my surgury I have not been able to drive stick. This has meant me rolling in the family mini-van while Sara is left with my well aged 96 Cavalier. We have been talking about me getting a new car for at least a few years but her having to drive the Cavy on a regular basis has intensified things. So we have been car shopping.

We got a sitter last weekend and went to the car lot. We went to every major dealership. Sara liked the Volvos but I couldn’t afford one. I liked the Challenger but figured a bike rack would ruin it’s good looks. We ended up at the Honda dealership. We test drove a Civic. It was nice. It was practical. It was in our price range. But it just wasn’t me. No offense to Civic owners, but I just couldn’t drive one. It was just a little too main-stream. So the hunt was still on.

It is my nature to get over enveloped in things. I was spending more time than is healthy on every craigslist in So. Cal. If you know craigslist you know you have to act fast to get a good deal.

This week I got left home from Disneyland with Jillian and my crutches. I don’t know if Sara meant it or if she was just feeling bad for me but the last thing she said was, “You have my blessing to buy a car if you find something good.”

That was the kiss of death.

Jilli had even become familiar with my craigslist addiction and would cry as soon as I sat down at the computer. But it wasn’t long before we had a hot one and were out on the road. The guys house we ended up at had a parking lot of classic cars in his backyard. The one I had driven out for was not worth the trip, but the vehicle right next to it was. I don’t know about Jillian but for me it was love at first sight.

“Are you selling that?”

“Yeah, I was going to throw it on craigslist for 45 hundred I just haven’t gotten a chance yet.”

Two hours later the hunt was over. We reached a price of $3800. (Maybe I do have a little of the Ricker in me.)

Meet Lola.

Ain't she a beauty!

Once he said he would throw in the personalized surfer plates I was a goner.

Inside the bubble top. So much potential. So much head-room.

Sweet wood floor, two 110-outlets, a bench that folds into a bed, sink, propane stove, icebox. She's the swiss army knife of automobiles.

If you have seen Ghostbusters, it isn’t hard to imagine the scene when I brought Lola home. (If you haven’t seen Ghostbusters, please stop reading my blog. Permanently.) Imagine the scene when Ray brings home the Ecto-mobile for the first time. Sara playing the role of Peter Venkman and me as Ray.

Sara: “You can’t park that thing here!”

Me: “Everyone can relax I found the car. It needs some suspension work...and shocks...and brakes, brake pads, linings, steering box, transmission, rear end…”

Sara: “How much?”

Me: “Only 3800.”

I guess to end up with a 1970 bus when you were secretly hoping for a Volvo most wives would have reacted quite a bit worse than Sara did. Sensing my excitement she bit her tounge and didn't say one single mean thing. Sara is a horrible liar and could not keep up the facade forever. Her excitement for Lola was not quite what I had hoped. Upon me probing a little further she finally shared her feelings. I don't remember the exact wording but this was the gist of it:

"Of all the cars that I saw you look at or ask me about on craigslist that is by far the ugliest one."

That hurt a little but I guess I probably deserved it.

I know I should have given Sara a chance to weigh in on the purchase of a 1970 bubble top VW bus, but the temptation was too great and I conceded. Sara is not quite able to visulize Lola's full potential yet, but give her some time. Venkman eventually warmed up to the Ecto-mobile, right.

Happy Birthday to an RCHS legend!

"Man Mr. Smart, I saw your sister on Youtube, that girl got flow!"

If only I had a dollar for every time I heard that.

It is the birthday of the only red headed rapper I know. The girl who showed us that rapping isn't just for thugs. The girl who established the white-mormon-middle-class on the scene. She is the founder of Los G's. She has rapped along side the likes of D-lish, The Abominable Ro-Man, B. Rizzle Nizzle, Rocko, Pop Rox and CherDawg. The girl who is single handedly responsible for the trend that has led to the Swagger Wagon commercials. That's right, it's the one, the only Riz Na$ty! Happy Birthday to the coolest girl I know. (After Sara.)

I thought I would get a little more mileage out of some of my extra credit Birfday Raps. They are remixed in HD and there are even some previously unreleased cuts. (You know they have to be bad if they didn't make the cut last time.) The Swagger Wagon is at the bottom, which only could be better if Toyota shelled out the dough to get Riz Na$ty as the mom.

Happy Birthday Rach, we love you!

Impressing the little guy at any cost!

Chairlift Talk while riding over the board park:

“Wow did you see that Dad?”

“Yeah pretty cool.”

“Whoa Dad did you see that boardslide?”

“Yeap, that was sweet.”

“Oh my heck, Did you see that jump Dad?”

“I can go bigger than that Rig.”

“You can?” Tone of disbelief.

Just about a month ago Rig told me he didn’t think I could beat up his seventy year old Karate instructor at the YMCA. I was already feeling an intense desire to start reliving some of the glory days in the park, throw in the fact that Rigdon was starting to see me as something less than superhuman and I was ready to commit to a gap jump.

So on our next run I chose the smallest one in the park and went for it. It felt pretty good. I hit a couple more and it just started to feel better and better. I finally hit a big one and it was exhilarating. I couldn’t resist a euphoric scream.

“Did you see that Rig?”

“See what?”

Other than myself, Rigdon is the least observant person I know.

"That jump I just hit!”

“You did that big jump?” Same tone of disbelief.

On our next run I was golden. My park mojo was thriving. I was hitting all the jumps with confidence. I stopped to see if Rigdon was taking in any of my skills. He wasn’t. I decided I would have him get the big jump I had already done on film this time. Then he couldn’t miss it.

After some careful instructions of how to use the camera, Rig was ready to go. Rig was to record me on a medium jump and then the big one.

I took off and smoothly landed the smaller jump and confidently pointed my board towards the jump that just last run had been so exhilarating. I remember thinking to myself, “Am I going too fast? Nah, the last one felt great plus I’ve got the same color hair as Shaun White.”

The take off was perfect. I left the ramp as straight as I ever had. Then I remember thinking “I should be going down by now.”

I saw the landing come and go underneath me and my next thought was “ Holy crap, I am going to break bones.”

If only I had been so lucky.

This is the one that got my knee. It doesn't look like this guy is making it to the landing. Better to under shoot it than over shoot it as I learned. I landed over towards the left edge of the picture.

I was not waiting around for pity. I unstrapped my board, jumped up after the wreck and made a self assesment. My knee got wrenched really good but everything else seemed to be in tack. Although I knew immediately knee injury was the second worse senario only to back injury. I walked over to Rigdon expecting a “Dang are you all right?” or a “That was huge Dad!”

There was no such reaction.

“I think I have to go home Rig.”

“What? Why?”

“I think I hurt my knee in that wreck.”

“You wrecked?”

Turns out I was wrong about Rigdon he is even less observant than me.

Bet you can guess how the footage of the wreck came out. Here it is below.

The only proof that anyone even witnessed my wreck is if you turn the volume up you can hear some guy say "He way overshot it!"

Why I don't own a motorcycle

I had a season lift pass to The Canyons over a decade ago. During that winter I worked up to doing all the biggest jumps they had in the park. I didn’t do them with much style. I couldn’t do a single technical trick, not even a 180. That stuff didn’t interest me, but I could go big, and I liked it. I liked it a lot.

In my one season as a pass holder, I sufffered one wreck that resulted in a broken wrist, which to this day is still broken. Then while recovering from the wrist injury, on a day with spectators gathered in the park, I was going pretty big and getting some love from the crowd. Eager to impress further, I decided to save all my speed for the biggest jump where the crowd was gathered. It was going to be awesome.

Upon take-off my arms instantly began flapping violently and the awesomeness was underway. It was obvious to all that I was going to over shoot the landing by a good margin. The only question was weather the arm flapping would keep my board under me. It didn’t. I might as well had not even had on a snowboard because it was the last thing to hit the snow on impact. I had impressed them all right. After that jump, I had a whole group of them tending to me. You know it is a good wreck, when the first thing people ask is “Can you still move your legs?” That wreck did not result in broken bones, but once I was sure my legs still worked I elected to walk down the mountain. The next day my backside turned black and blue and swelled up like I had a football trapped under my skin. I was left wearing sweat pants for weeks. Lesson learned? Maybe not.

This is not my wreck. This was just the wreck most reminiscent of mine on youtube. To better imagine my wreck, put me on a snow board add more arm flapping and more spectators and imagine the cursing in english rather than french, and you have it.

On Rigdon’s birthday I took him snowboarding for the first time. He totally impressed me. We had a blast. I had the bright idea that we would both buy season passes next year and ride together as often as possible.

Then a couple of weeks ago, I saw a special to buy your season pass for next year now, and get the rest of this season free. I figured we could get in at least 5 more days this season. I decided to go for it and last Saturday morning I threw down the 358 bucks for mine and Rig’s passes. We were thouroghly enjoying our first day as season pass holders. I usually let Rig dictate what part of the mountain we ride, like his old man, he is drawn to the park.

Being in the park is not good for me. I get there and I am like a recovering alcoholic. I see the big gap jumps and the guys hitting them and my palms sweat and my stomach aches. I can’t wait to join them.

As of that morning I was now a season pass holder again and would have plenty of time to prudently work back up to some big hits. More on that thought in my next post I have to get back to conference.

Injury Report

Since injuring my knee a couple of weeks ago, I have been the victum of at least 20 evaluations by family, friends and aquaintances. I have heard torn ACL, MCL, LCL, meniscus, knee cartilage, ect. You name it, someone has diagnosed me with it. Turns out most all of them were right. The MRI confirmed a torn ACL, MCL, LCL and meniscus. On the bright side, I guess I spared the PCL.