Exploring Arcata Community Forest

September 7th, 2016

Located just behind the Humboldt State University lies what seems to be another world masked by the name Arcata […]

Hike of the Week – Rubicon Trail

April 23rd, 2015

Hike of the Week - Rubicon Trail A beautiful hike with spectacular views of the lake, coves, and Emerald Bay. Enjoy this trek as an out and back or a nice long shuttle route from DL Bliss to Emerald Bay.

Hike of the Week – Cascade Falls

April 16th, 2015

Hike of the week - Cascade Falls photos, details, and highlights.

Diamond Peak Crystal Ridge

March 4th, 2015

Diamond Peaks Crystal Ridge Run boasts some of the best views of Lake Tahoe. Come take a ride with us down Crystal Ridge

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Hike/Run of the Week- Crystal Ridge Run

March 1st, 2015

Crystal Ridge Run Diamond Peak, Incline Village NV
Intermediate Blue Run with Scenic Views of Lake Tahoe

Diamond Peak boasts some […]

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Lake Mountain: Some days elapsed, and ice and icebergs all astern

January 11th, 2013

For sleeping man, ’twas hard to choose between such winsome days and such seducing nights. But all the witcheries of that unwaning weather did not merely lend new spells and potencies to the outward world. Inward they turned upon the soul, especially when the still mild hours of eve came on; then, memory shot her crystals as the clear ice most forms of noiseless twilights. And all these subtle agencies, more and more they wrought on Ahab’s texture.[quote] It was so with Ahab; only that now, of late, he seemed so much to live in the open air, that truly speaking, his visits were more to the cabin, than from the cabin to the planks. “It feels like going down into one’s tomb,”—he would mutter to himself—”for an old captain like me to be descending this narrow scuttle, to go to my grave-dug berth.”[/quote]

It was so with Ahab; only that now, of late, he seemed so much to live in the open air, that truly speaking, his visits were more to the cabin, than from the cabin to the planks. “It feels like going down into one’s tomb,”—he would mutter to himself—”for an old captain like me to be descending this narrow scuttle, to go to my grave-dug berth.” […]

Lord save me, thinks I, that must be the harpooneer

December 5th, 2012

He pays regular, was the rejoinder. But come, it’s getting dreadful late, you had better be turning flukesit’s a nice bed Sal and me slept in that ere bed the night we were spliced. There’s plenty of room for two to kick about in that bed; it’s an almighty big bed that. Why, afore we give it up, Sal used to put our Sam and little Johnny in the foot of it. But I got a dreaming and sprawling about one night, and somehow, Sam got pitched on the floor, and came near breaking his arm. Arter that, Sal said it wouldn’t do. Come along here, I’ll give ye a glim in a jiffy;” and so saying he lighted a candle and held it towards me, offering to lead the way. But I stood irresolute; when looking at a clock in the corner, he exclaimed “I vum it’s Sunday—you won’t see that harpooneer to-night; he’s come to anchor somewhere—come along then; DO come; WON’T ye come? […]

There, among some young pine trees and furze bushes

August 21st, 2012

A sudden chill came over me. There was a loud shriek from a woman behind. I half turned, keeping my eyes fixed upon the cylinder still, from which other tentacles were now projecting, and began pushing my way back from the edge of the pit. I saw astonishment giving place to horror on the faces of the people about me. I heard inarticulate exclamations on all sides. There was a general movement backwards. I saw the shopman struggling still on the edge of the pit. I found myself alone, and saw the people on the other side of the pit running off, Stent among them. I looked again at the cylinder, and ungovernable terror gripped me. I stood petrified and staring. A big greyish rounded bulk, the size, perhaps, of a bear, was rising slowly and painfully out of the cylinder. As it bulged up and caught the light, it glistened like wet leather. […]

The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day

February 12th, 2012

Passepartout was delighted. His master’s last exploit, the consequences of which he ignored, enchanted him. Never had the crew seen so jolly and dexterous a fellow. He formed warm friendships with the sailors, and amazed them with his acrobatic feats. He thought they managed the vessel like gentlemen, and that the stokers fired up like heroes. His loquacious good-humour infected everyone. He had forgotten the past, its vexations and delays. He only thought of the end, so nearly accomplished; and sometimes he boiled over with impatience, as if heated by the furnaces of the Henrietta. Often, also, the worthy fellow revolved around Fix, looking at him with a keen, distrustful eye; but he did not speak to him, for their old intimacy no longer existed. […]

White Water Rafting: Top 5 U.S. Locations

January 13th, 2012

Later this shield staggered up on tripod legs and became the first of the fighting-machines I had seen. The gun he drove had been unlimbered near Horsell, in order to command the sand pits, and its arrival it was that had precipitated the action. As the limber gunners went to the rear, his horse trod in a rabbit hole and came down, throwing him into a depression of the ground. At the same moment the gun exploded behind him, the ammunition blew up, there was fire all about him, and he found himself lying under a heap of charred dead men and dead horses. […]