Snake Dancing

My new "thing" this Spring is to go jogging through these Blueberry Farms / Natural Slough by my work every day at lunch. Well every day its not raining that is. So about once a month. And Ive been doing this for a few weeks now feeling real proud of myself for actually sticking it out, and fortunate to have this beautiful natural slough so close by that I can literally run to it on a lunch break. So all is going just hunky dory and I'm getting into the routine, propelling like the wind, rockin' to a kick-ass workout play list all sorted out in my iPod and then TODAY - well I fear it may have all come to an abrupt end. Much to my horror, I learned that the Blueberry Farms/ Slough is SNAKE ridden!!! Real, live, slippery slimy, scaly, ugly, frickin terrifying beastly snakes!! I saw not one, but TWO of them today, one of which stopped me dead in my tracks for at least 10 minutes while I pondered what the hell to do about this situation. You see its a fairly narrow trail that unless you're a bush walker, you can't exactly detour around, and this HUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGEEEEEE snake was like RIGHT there blocking this little bridge thing that I had to get past. My first thought, once I relocated my heart beat, was to just wait it out and either the snake will move or some other brave jogger will come by and wrangle it off the bridge and save me from my plight. But I'm not a patient person, and at least 60-90 seconds went by and the f_cker still didnt move! At this point, as I stood trembling in my fashionable Velour track suit complete with racing stripes, I thought about having a good cry, but I seemed to have scared the tears away, so instead I came to the conclusion that I would stand where I was (a good ways away from striking distance but close enough for the snake to see me if it looked up) and start dancing frantically, hoping that my shadows would be cast in the snakes direction and would scare it away. And you know what? It worked! I mean not even 10 seconds into my frantic, yet graceful and astonishingly technical hip hop and disco moves, the snake bolted. It actually slithered down into the cracks of the bridge, which wasnt ideal because it forced me into a situation where I had to leap for dear life to clear the entire distance of the bridge. I had visions of this damn snake springing up out from the planks of the bridge and biting me in the unmentionables, so man did I JUMP! At that moment, I could have been mistaken for an Olympic long jumper; I was one motivated SOB.

So the moral of this story is when faced with a life threatening situation (yes people, it was a Gardner snake so I was told through fits of laughter and a healthy dosage of finger pointing after I raced back to relay my ordeal), and pizza is NOT available to gorge yourself on and relieve the stress, just dance! I mean really really dance your ass off, and the scary things will go away.

I assert that this entire story is completely true (with the exception of the Velour track suit - I'm not nearly that cool). So don't go all James Frey on my action.

Doin' a Little Shopping

Behold the beauteous discoveries of my shopping efforts in preparation of my Alaskan fishing trip!

I was told that I needed to wear weather proof clothes, and preferably something that the blood will just wipe right off of, since we'll be "bleeding the fish out on the boat." Delightful! Just absolutely delightful!!!

So, I was doin' a little online shopping today for my fishing outfit and came across these lovely items. GOT TO look authentic, you know? Think I'll get me one of them camo fishing hats with the mosquito net too. Whaddaya think? Is it me?

"Jorvik" the Viking Town

York was definitely an interesting stop on our journey. One that we debated even making, but definitely glad we took the extra day to do so. In the mid 9th Century AD, York changed from Anglo-Saxon to an entirely Danish Viking town, known as "Jorvik". Although the name didn't survive, there are still ample traces of the Viking history and presence everywhere you go in York, and most notably in the street names - Ex. the suffix "gate" is based on the Viking "gata" meaning "street" and most of the York streets are called names such as Mickelgate, Skedlergate, and even Swinegate - where the pigs were kept!

We toured the Jorvik Museum there which was actually built upon a true archeological dig and still had the remains of actual Viking built stone walls erect there. We had headsets to guide us through the Museum and I accidentally hit the CHILDS version so my narrator was a 6 year old boy named "little johnny" who told me about what fabulous games the Vikings kids played during those times. Drake had to fill me in on the adult history once it was over. :) Go figure.

We had a perfect view of the York Minster from our B&B window here, which was a magnificent church, rebuilt in Gothic style over the years 1220-1482.

A gentleman with crazy hair who looked like Doc from "Back to the Future" was kind enough to literally escort our rain-soaked lost asses to the York Brewery, which was *awesome*. Their "Yorkshire Terrier Bitter" was the best beer I had in all of the UK. and of course, every ale was served cask style on tap so the flavor and guts weren't overshadowed with fizzy bubbles. Hello America - the land of borrowed ideas. What's with carbonating the flavor out of all your beers? 30 psi, seriously? If there's any borrowed idea you should run with - take a tip from the Brits on real ales.

And lastly, we strolled our way through an area of town, appropriately known as "The Shambles." Actually - it was just this one incredibly picturesque, medieval street with a narrow road, and all the buildings leaned inward, (almost like they were going in for a peck) nearly touching each other at their peaks! It was once known for the meat butchering area of York, around the year 1000.

Photo Guide: TOP - The Shambles
MIDDLE - Drakey dressed up in tradionally Viking garb at the Jorvik Museum
BOTTOM - The York Minster

RED SHOE GALLERY: Episode 7 - Scotland

Okay - so I do apologize for dropping this picture posting project like a hot potato that has grown soggy, green and infested with mold spores. There was a thing that came up. and then another thing. and then a few things piled up back to back and then a cluster of things, and well... I'm finally getting back to the priorities here, okay?

So if it hasn't been made abundantly clear yet, Drake and I mutually agreed that Edinburgh, Scotland was our favorite stop on our European adventure. I'll admit that this was a painfully difficult thing to come to terms with and it wasn't until after some intense therapy sessions, prayer circles, deep hypnosis and magic 8-ball consults, that we were finally able to confess this to each other. I mean, most of our travel talk and big dreams our past 11 years were all "Ireland Ireland Ireland" and what with Drake being a leprechaun and all; but well... Scotland just kicked ass! Simple as that. Best architecture, friendliest people, most amusing accents, mysterious history, a drinkin' culture (which appealed to us), bitchin' pubs, and just overall a damn cool place to visit.

And without further adieu, the photo guide. Remember to double click all images to enlarge to actual size.

TOP shot - Sir Walter Scott Memorial and probably my favorite architectural piece in all. This thing loomed over the city center in a righteously gothic medieval manner, setting a character and mood about the city that I just ate right up. Brought to mind a scene out of Wuthering Heights or something.

2nd shot - Red Shoes travel the sleek, icy switchbacks up the hillside to the castle. View from half-way up. I risked my life for this photo opp.

3rd shot - This bagpiper was the rudest MoFo we met in Scotland. He actually demanded that Drake pay to take a picture with him. A ripe surly old bagpiping bastard, twas he.

4th shot - View from atop the hill looking out from the castle. Beautiful!

5th shot - Edinburgh Castle view from our B&B window!