Pilar's birthday found us at Bouchon, Thomas Keller's french restaurant in The Venetian casino and hotel. The food, atmosphere, and service approximated perfection. Instead of wine, we accompanied our meal with 3 Vesper martinis (Boodles gin, vodka, Lillet Blanc, twist). I say "approximated perfection" because the third martini had ice crystals in it. Perhaps to be expected since James Bond did say it should be "shaken, not stirred." To start, we were served the best baked bread I've had outside of Europe, with salted butter. Why can't Americans get good bread? why is good bread here a rare delicacy when the French can just walk into any bakery and get wheaty kneaded heavenly goodness?
Then followed the appetizers: we received a complimentary plate of carpaccio with bread and goat cheese, rabbit with diced plum, and olives. Our main course was roast leg of lamb and beef short ribs. 
Presentation was king, and each dish was softly understated, with masterfully hidden surprises. For example, the lamb was on a bed of finely diced and sauteed sweet peppers and arugula, and underneath that, unseen at first was a small bed of toasted bread a centimeter thin that soaked in the au jus and all the other savory delectability.
They even provided a birthday platter with a single candle mounted on the plate with its own wax.
Afterwards, we sampled the uber gaudy mockery of Venice, strangely interesting in its own grotesque way, the way things are in Las Vegas. A frighteningly impressive fake sky that messes with your sense of the time of day is combined with singing gondoliers. Seeing these unrivalled feats of bad taste always reminds me of a psychological map of the American culture- A blissfully and willfully ignorant disneyfied fantasy of stereotypes. This is where American adults go to be mesmerized like children doped up on anti-depressants.
On the way out, a gigantic moth, which i'll refer to as Mothra, was trapped in the hallway that led to the parking garage. For some reason, Mothra landed on Pilar's skirt, and once there, decided it didn't want to flutter about anymore while banging its head against the swinging glass doors. I think Mothra sensed that Pilar was not like the others (others being the visiting tourists gawking and freaking out and thinking Mothra was a bat.) Mothra clung to Pilar's skirt down the hallway, and even into the elevator. I guess it wanted to get the hell out of there as well!
Today Pilar and I visited Mary Jane crag in Mt. Charleston for the second time. I was determined to send Mary Jane 5.11b, even if that meant skipping two bolts at the top because I didn't bring up enough draws. The book said 5 bolts, but there were 7. I only had 5 draws, but didn't want to start over again. Besides, I could save energy by not having to stop and clip two extra times. In the middle of the video below, Pilar and I argue about what to do when I realize I'm short two draws. She wanted me to come down, but I was confident in my plan.
Slab 5.8 - redpoint
Pine in the Ass 5.10b - onsight
Mary Jane 5.11b - redpoint
Insane in the Membrane 5.11a - redpoint
Pilar, impressed by the latest batman flick, saw a cloud shaped like batman's emblem.
Afterwards, we went to Shuck's Tavern to inhale some oysters.
Sunday night Aylon and I watched "Tell No One", a "french thriller", with a french Dustin Hoffman lookalike. It will not leave an indelible mark on your psyche, but it will entertain you. If my friend Aylon didn't fall asleep, it must have been quite stimulating. Good: characters, editing. Bad: exploited U2's With or Without You, a song that A said had too many connections for too many people. Unfortunately, they couldn't sustain the suspense/mystery for long and instead opted to explain it all half way through the movie which seriously deflated the tension they had built up. It would have been much better to reveal in a slow tease rather than a monotone bang. Perhaps I'm just prejudiced and wanted something more spooky along the lines of David Lynch. None the less, it was superior to hollywood in every respect. Solid acting combined with touches of humor that always managed to fall shy of poignancy. Like a fried egg with salt- simple and effective. Alright, that was a fragile analogy, but tough titties.
Here's a video of Tulip, Jane and Aylon's dog in NYC. She's chewing on a nylon bone. Normal bones won't do because her pitbull-like jaws break them and allow her to swallow them without proper chewing. Then she vomits. Hence the nylon bone. I think the nylon bone may be bullet proof. Don't mess with the nylon bone.
Men Kui Tei
I almost didn't fulfill my tradition of visiting this midtown classic. But I convinced my colleague Alex to join me, and as usual, it was scrumptiously yummylicious. We started with two Sapporo, then dove headfirst into gyoza, nera reba (chicken liver and leeks), tonkotsu ramen (rich pork bone broth), and curry ramen. Alex was initially skeptical of the nira reba but ended up vacuuming the entire plate.
Following Men Kui Tei, Alex and I visited Paladar in the East Village, a latin bar that boasted the best mojitos in nyc or some similarly ridiculous and commonplace claim. We had mojitos and caiperinhas until Aylon and his new found bass player Peter showed up. The mojitos were weak, but tasty. A lot of mint and real sugar cane. Peter was one cool cat. He carried a gigantic upright bass with him, and he only had one pin on the huge canvas bag. It was a pin with a picture of Jim Anchower ! I alone appreciated this.
Alex insisted I snap a photo of the mountain of limes on the bar, so here it is.
Video is me sending Village Idiot V7. Thanks to Masa for the spot and Yusuke for the video! I worked on this problem on and off over a couple of years. It consists of a precise deadpoint to a 1 pad crimp, followed by two more crimps over the mini-roof, and finally a deadpoint to a large crimp (2 pads) which is really a jug at that point. The first crux is pulling over the mini-roof while locking off the left hand. The trick there is to place the right toe on one of the beginning handholds (a flat ledge), flag with the left foot, and reach over with your right hand. This keeps your weight off of your poor left hand fingertips. (You just need a little bit of core and a decent spot for the mental comfort, although the landing is excellent, especially for peterskill, as it's a large wide and flat slab. The only better landing available at Peterskill is the woodchips at the Quarantine boulders.) After that, you match on the crescent and then it's just endurance because the final deadpoint arrives at a really positive hold.
I had been able to do the match before, but usually burned out on those two crimps at the crescent and couldn't position my feet properly for the final deadpoint. I guess the small amount of training I've done recently paid off; I've switched away from bouldering and towards more endurance for sport climbing (200 move traverses), and I've been using a Metolius "Simulator" hangboard once a week, trying some John Bachar style exercises I read about in his book. However, I agree with most people at rockclimbing.com that hangboards are dangerous and not for beginners.Our A-Team du jour consisted of Masa, Yusuke, their new friend Masaki, and me. Masaki is a 22 year old med student from Japan who's observing operations at Columbia University. He's also 120 pounds of Beast! After messing around on the Hop V7 (he was able to stick the first dyno, but didn't finish it... i don't know why), he blasted through Village Idiot V7 (flash), Tiger Style V7 (5 tries?), some V3 mantle, Kill Whitey V10 (2nd try!), and finished with a decent attempt on Jefe V10. Picture below is Masaki sending Kill Whitey:
He's only been climbing for 2 years. It was his first time at Peterskill. He's about my height, but 20 lbs less than me, with huge springing power. He really enjoyed bouldering at Peterskill because he found the style to consist of big gymnastic moves between crimps and/or otherwise decent holds. He said Japanese bouldering tended toward very technical moves on thin features, where a static style rules the day. I think he enjoyed flying around like Jackie Chan. The video below is Masaki sending Tiger Style.
We also tried Sicker than Average V8. Russell the Muscle was going to show us some kneebar beta that would turn it into a V6, but it was late and we wanted to hit Bacchus for beer. Below is me starting Sicker than Average. Wasn't able to get past the bicycle move to the gigantic pinch.
Russell the Muscle shows Masaki how to turn the peace sign into a gangsta gesture along with matching facial thuggery:
After some Bacchus burgers, I challenged Yusuke to some straight pool. We tied 3-3. He was better, but I was luckier. And as we know, luck beats skill.
A couple of weeks ago I switched my breakfast away from meat and eggs and towards one of oatmeal, 7 grain Kashi, blueberries and raspberries. I feel less tired and think I even lost a little bit of weight. However, on this fateful weekend morning, my body said no mas and demanded grease. Succumbing to the siren call of sausages simmering in the skillet, I whipped up a whoop ass pile of food. I figure this is ok as a "once in a while" thing. Two hours after eating this culinary monstrosity, I passed out on the couch. Thus, my breakfast had a similar effect to drinking 5 stiff gin martinis, but sans hangover.
I decided to check out this limestone crag called "The Gun Club" behind Lone Mountain. Access is very convenient, because they just built a parking lot adjacent to it. If you cut through a couple washes and make a direct beeline for the crag, it's about a 5 minute approach.
While at the Gun Club, I found a couple of bat corpses hanging off of some plants growing out of
the base of the cliff. Not really sure what the bats were doing there (besides decomposing), but here they are for your viewing enjoyment.
Pilar marches to the beat of her own drummer as we descend the Emerald Pools trail in hundred degree heat. Although not seen in the photograph, there were hordes of other tourists besides ourselves, but of them, many were european. We saw a lot of dutch or german families with cool glasses. The propane powered buses were nice; if only they would do that in Yosemite. Speaking of Yosemite, Zion struck me as Yosemite "lite" because it's the same model i.e. people enter, stay, and frolic in the valley and there's a loop road in and out. Difference is, Yosemite feels like a bajillion times larger. So Zion had less of the "nature-disney" feel.
My partner who has already been named forgot to bring any utensils. So in order to eat my Annie Chung udon noodles, I fashioned a couple of chopsticks out of twigs, which made me realize my kinship with the chimps.
Sticks in my mouth. Yummy.
This beetle was hanging out by the river. You can see a drop of water in its left armpit. Zion was of course breathtaking, but the daytime high was 107F, which was pretty brutal. It didn't cool off until 1am. So do NOT go there during the summer. We stayed at the South Campground but ants were everywhere, including inside our tent. I awoke encrusted in ant corpses from an all night toss and turn slap fest. Below is a video of me climbing bunnyhop v2 or vo. The two holds on the face are drilled. Makes sense b/c they feel like limestone pockets but it's a sandstone face.
Pilar's cousin Lucia came to Las Vegas friday night with two of her friends from Barcelona. We took them to "Noodles" in the Bellagio and then to the patisserie. They were bemused by the Conservatory, which housed a super-cheesy "America" themed exhibit replete with huge robotic eagle chicks. If fascism and cheese had a one-night stand, that exhibit would have been the lovechild. Back to Noodles, I would not recommend it since their pad thai sucked (it was just tasteless lo mein), their service was abrupt and not responsive, and the decor was crud. Dim sum was ok, but sucked by NYC Chinatown standards. That's understandable and forgiveable because I don't think tourists at the Bellagio would know good dim sum if it jumped into their rectum and started moshing with razorblades. I shouldn't complain as Lucia very generously picked up the tab. I didn't have it in me to fight over the check. I've done it too many times, so if somebody puts up a fight, I don't second-guess. You wanna pay you pay. Lucia if you're reading this, thank you for lunch!!
Saturday Pilar and I visited Robber's Roost at Mt. Charleston for some limestone sport.
My first climb was The Rooster, 5.10c or 5.11b with 5 bolt extension. I onsighted the 5.11b, although it sort of took all my available calories. My stemming abilities were not up to the task so I wasted energy in poor stances with my feet cramping up. Afterwards, I took some disappointing falls on a couple of 11s, purposely climbing when I was drained and partially pumped. It's part of my "sub-optimal" climbing regime where I'm trying to teach my body and mind to perform in less than prime conditions, which is often. I used to be one of those that wouldn't try something unless I was feeling strong or alert or just good in general. This even extended to the gym. I wouldn't hop on a problem if I just didn't feel energetic. Now I get on it precisely because I feel like doggy doo. Not sure if this is a good approach, but I think it's working. Of course, the obvious solution would be to get a good night's sleep and get in better shape for the approaches, but that's apparently too darn reasonable.
At the crag I had a Larry David moment: There was a japanese couple probably in their 50s and climbing strong as hell. They were resting in the shade when Pilar and I were leaving. But I forgot my climbing guidebook, which was on the ground beside the couple. It happened to be on top of an empty bag of Whole Foods brand teriyaki-flavored beef jerky we had eaten. Since Pilar was closer to the book, I pointed in the direction of the book (and incidentally the japanese couple) and exclaimed to Pilar, "Oh, I see the book. It's by the TERIYAKI!" The japanese man then covered his face with his hand in either an act of disbelief or disgust or both. I thought "Oh my god, he must think I called them "teriyaki" because they were japanese! Shit! Wait, I'm not some racist asshole! I meant the bag of beef jerky..." Well, there's no recovering from that, so I quickly exited stage left feeling like moron. Since the guy had the route wired, I bet they're locals and I'll probably run into them again. Joy.
This is a grasshopper that Pilar somehow managed to capture today.
My new 2001 4runner 4x4. Yay!
Went to the dentist today. For some reason there's like one on every block here in Summerlin. Here's my mouth. They used some new technology where the x-ray image is sent directly to a computer. New to me because the last dozen times I went to a dentist in NJ, it was the old fashioned print on the backlight.
I'm sleep deprived so no commentary today. Suffice to say, all was delicious. 
The Yakitori Master fans the flames of flavor.
Yesterday my friend Mike and I visited the Lost City at the Gunks in Peterskill to do some toproping. We had the place to ourselves because it was 90F and 89% humidity. We warmed up on a 5.8 crack that was wetter than wet. Then we moved over to some 5.11ish face, which was kind of short. Then we each took a few burns on Caffeine and Nicotine 5.12b. Mike deciphered the crux moves. Very very fun route requiring all kinds of climbing: traverse, slab, face, roof, deadpoint, gastons, side-pulls, bumps. The pure variety of the route is astounding. Now I just have to sneak back and redpoint it before Mike does.
Mike leads the way to the Lost City. He's like Indiana Jones, but without a hat, a whip, khakis, a man purse, and he's not in his mid-60s.
Looks sort of jungle like, but it's just New York. Speaking of New York, that overrated city, while we were at the Amphitheater, who should show up but 7 year old Ashima with who I presume is her father who looks like Sho Aikawa from a Miike movie. I thought man this girl is everywhere! I was hoping she would wander over to our 5.12 to show us what's up but no luck. Below, the bomber toprope Mike set up with a perfect amount of cordelletes and slings on a pine tree up top.
Caffeine & Nicotine 5.12b. Neither of us did it, but it shall fall. The heat drained our energy and Mike needed a lot of energy and encouragement for his proj. I'm not the kind to yell out stuff at the crag tho. I'll need to practice doing that. So far I've heard people say stuff like "look at it look at it look at it GO!" or "Try harder!!" or "Grow taller!" or "Breath" or "Relax" or the good old "YEAHHHH!!!" Perhaps some combinations like "Grow harder" or "Try YEAH" would be appropriate at times. Why is this so complicated?
Anyway, two hoegaardens with lemon tasted good afterwards. Mike went to his local video store and rented Cloverfield amidst my sarcastic criticism of a movie I've never seen. I dissed his flick because he dismissed my suggestion of some other flick with a scantily clad french maid wielding a cleaver with buzz words like
"sex" and "mayhem" on it.
Today I had a date with my Mom to see the latest Indiana Jones and the Skull made of Plastic that's supposed to be Crystal Meth or something like that. Shia Le Buffoon's role as his son amused my Mom. She said, "What's Fonzie doing in this movie?"
Below John demonstrates his magical no-hands belay technique. On the drive up, John ate 4 fried chicken wings purchased from Albertson's supermarket for $3.49 and tossed the bones out the window at various picturesque intervals on Route 157, to no small delight. This is completely irrelevant to anything; but I felt that the event merited recording.
Below, King John the Mohawk King holds court at Osaka Japanese restaurant. He won a $25 wager with Pilar that the caucasian american waitress spoke Japanese, by the way she corrected my abysmal pronunciation of nigiri sushi pieces. Turns out the waitress lived in Japan for a year. 
