Yellowstone is always good for tasty timelapse, and this one from Christopher Cauble renders the wonders of the oldest National Park in new ways. Then again, maybe it's the music. See, and hear, for yourself.
* * * The Sunday Morning Chillax? Here's the idea. It's Sunday. You're up early. You're enjoying a cup of coffee in the quiet morning while your kids sleep in. No need to read, this is always a video; something to give you happy thoughts about mountains, fresh air, stoke, fun, or being outside. Enjoy. Relax. Not guaranteed to be weekly . . . hey, you get what you pay for.
Now, how is this connected? It's a grand undertaking to find a cogent and authentic way to associate the anarchy of punk rock with family-friendly outdoor adventure. But I'm going to give it a shot, right here, right now. I've made worse decisions in my life.
If this is your first introduction to David Wilcox the singer-songwriter, please let me get a few factoids out of the way.
First, he's playing a bullet-proof guitar made out of carbon fiber because, as he says, and I'll paraphrase, he needed an ax that could handle being left in the car while he and his family went hiking in the Grand Canyon when it's "300 degrees outside."
Second, he traveled around the U.S. with his wife and son for a couple of years driving a Ford Excursion (or, "Ford Extinction" as he called it in numerous shows) converted to run on bio-diesel fuel, and towing a beautiful 28-foot Airstream trailer.
Third, the reason this video makes the grade for a Sunday Morning Chillax is because it's a live performance of a song that's all about outdoor adventure . . .
They don't know it, nor should they, but a few notes strummed and sung by Roger Clyne (right) and PH Naffah (left) fits into our road trips all because of one simple event.
In May of 2004, Brooke and I had been married for a year and the notion of me being a father was still, you know, alarming. We spent the weekend of our first anniversary down in Sonora, Mexico kayaking on the Sea of Cortés near the little drinking village of San Carlos. The day she and I left, I met my friend Brian at a seedy dive in Tempe right on our way out of town, sipped a chilled Patron, and he cornered me again about some band he liked. This time he came armed with a freshly purchased copy of ¡Americano! by Roger Clyne and The Peacemakers and he made me promise that we'd give it a whirl. I lied and said okay because I was so focused on getting to Mexico and putting a paddle in the water.
Just when you thought I was going totally stupid for posting about station wagons, I ratchet it up a notch and bring you the minivan; okay, I mean a rap about a minivan. You'll enjoy this video.
Welcome. A girl named Sally likes hiking and spending time in the mountains. Her friend Joe has a helicopter tour business in the same mountains. And the drama unfolds from there. Enjoy the song. Hope you like acoustic music.
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Ummm, The Sunday Morning Chillax? Here's the idea. You're up early. You're enjoying a cup of coffee in the quiet morning while your little turds sweet children sleep in. We'll share a video, something to give you happy, relaxing thoughts about mountains, fresh air, fun, or whatevs. Enjoy. Relax. You deserve it. Uh . . . except this is not guaranteed to be weekly. Hey, that's the price of free.
Each night, Mark sits down with the guitar and his Macbook and looks up new songs to play- he is itching to lead some campfire songs this spring. It's fun to listen- he's got a great ear and is naturally coordinated enough to already make the guitar sound alive with music. I have no doubt that in a month he'll master the chord changes for some great songs and will get to shine at our next campfire circle.
One of the things I happen to believe about parenting - and part of what adventure travel helps to do - is teaching my child about craftsmanship and humanity and culture and art. Some of the simplest things in your house need not be mass-produced, imported-from-China goods. People, hard working skilled people, make things with their own two hands, a bit of skill, and, when you're fortunate enough for it, a whole bunch of love.
When I bought my first guitar a couple of months ago, I needed a strap to go with it. I thought about it for a few days. "Hmmm, should I get one with 3" spikes? Or machine gun bullets? Or naked lady silhouettes . . . "
Pasquale works his music magic at the end of a long dirt road with a collection of friends
So I'm ready to take the campfire experience to the next level: playing guitar and singing songs. You know why? Because a guy with a guitar and a campfire is always the coolest guy in the world.
Here's the list I'm thinking about. Tell me, which ones am I forgetting? Which ones do you disagree with?
If "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" and those cliché radio versions of "Silent Night" by country music superstars excite you as much as a bawling colicky newborn in the middle of the night, I might have a good choice for you.
Music sure is magical, isn't it? We're giving that purple blob of felt a run for his money. If you've ever been at your wits end with those Barney songs and your child's unwavering request for said songs, this one's for you.
Modern American Rule #1: The road is no place for a person who's paying attention.
Let along one who's on a bike. With a little baby in a trailer. But we did it anyway and enjoyed an evening of wine, women and song (more like beer, family, and jazz, but whatever) by bicycling down to the Chandler Jazz Festival way back when Chloe was just a little 8 month thing.
We're giving that purple blob of felt a run for his money. If you've ever been at your wits end with those Barney songs and your child's unwavering request for said songs, this one's for you.
