Dadamah - Violet Stains Red (from Violet Stains Red/Absent And Erotic Lives 7”, Yellow Electric 2012.)
Recorded on a tascam fourtrack in ‘92. I’ve become obsessed with the NZ underground.
Posing semi-lewdly and takin’ in all that fresh water (aka mein über-fantasy.)
Angeles National Forest
Reading hard-boiled by the brook
Angeles National Forest
we never made it to the actual Switzer falls, but I’ll title this post “Switzer Falls” in the spirit of all great imperialists
Ben and I spent the day at the Angeles National Forest in the San Gabriel Mts. Our destination was Switzer Falls, a waterfall roughly 2mi. into the woods and through canyons from the picnic area and trailhead. We grilled veg dogs & sausages, then started chooglin’.
I’d say more than half the hike was completely shaded, pretty easy going, and followed the crick. It was hot, fucking hot, but that goes without saying these days. We stopped frequently to stay hydrated and splash in the water. Soon we came across a path that departed from the stream. I was hesitant to leave the water, knowing it would eventually lead us to the waterfall, but the going was difficult if we stayed along the crick. We hiked upwards, upwards, upwards, and kept going. Pretty soon we were on a precipice overlooking what I believe to be Bear Canyon. The next 30-40 minutes were fucking grim — shimmying along this cliff face, covered in shale that kept moving under foot, & occasionally hearing rattlers. It would’ve been a decent place to die, though. Real beauty up there. Eventually we made it down, and back-tracked along the water until we found what we believed to be Switzer Falls.
It was a bit underwhelming, as this waterfall was maybe 15 feet high, and emptied into a pool no bigger than a few bathtubs. But after putting my body into the water, I didn’t even care. Language falls short; words don’t exist to describe how the water felt, but for the sake of a tumblr entry I’ll call it Refreshing. Incomparably so. We waded up to our waists, and enjoyed nature. I mean, this was seriously some transcendental shit. We didn’t want to leave, but definitely needed to make it back to the car before dark. On the way back, whilst shimmying, I heard someone yell from the other side of the canyon. Ben and I assumed it was someone yelling for the sake of hearing their echo, and later thought it was just some bozos singing about majestic purply mountains and shit. Then the helicopters came.
Really quite low. Later, a team of maybe a dozen fire fighters, EMTs, and park rangers came along the trail. Apparently, someone needed to be airlifted from the Canyon; they were stuck due to heat exhaustion and “other issues,” according to one fire fighter. We felt a little shitty, thinking maybe we could’ve sought help sooner for these folks if we had taken their cries seriously. But, it was pretty fucking awesome to later see the helicopter land twenty feet away from us, kickin’ up all sortsa debris, and take out the issue-ridden folks. The ambulance quickly sped off, leaving Ben and I to gush over our tax dollars at work (and worth every fucking cent) and the park employees’ speed and grace under pressure. Hopefully the folks are okay, but they’re definitely in good hands.
So we left, headed west on the 210 then south on the 2, back to our sleepy little city nestled in the valley. There was something incredibly cinematic about today.
Does this indicate a nearby drug haus? Maybe markin’ turf? Fuck if I know, but tossin’ shoes ain’t always bad news, ‘cos this pretty pair has flowers growin’ from it.
Taken 9/7/12 at the intersection of Alvarado and Reservoir, Echo Park.
It’s been stupidly hot in Los Angeles for months. This here’s wot I’ve had to resort to to keep Naima cool during the day.
Taken on a gawdawfulhot day in the smoggy desert