Seals and Sunshine

I could have returned home last night after the Aquarium party, but ... why? I would much rather wake up in Pacific Grove and spend another day on the shores of Monterey Bay.

Asilomar State Beach was a short stroll away; I'm not sure I've explored it, before.

The locals were out, and some tourists, too. On the way back to my hotel, I eavesdropped on a conversation. A guy with a very long lens had captured a photo of a butterfly. Was it a Monarch? I peered at his display and confirmed that it was. He wasn't the first person I met who was feeling disappointed not to find them fluttering everywhere, but it will be a few more weeks before they migrate north from Mexico.

It's not the season for the magic carpet to bloom, either, but there were some stragglers.

Harbor seals were hauled out and sunning themselves on rocks close to the shore, occasionally lifting their heads to survey their human onlookers.

It was a spectacular fall day, and I made the most of it—on foot. (It's not always about the bike.)

Reynolds, Rapidly

Why is Reynolds such a tough climb? It's a steady grade for 1.3 miles. A steady 9.8% grade, that's why.

But ... but ... that's a picture of Monterey Bay! [Yes, it is.]

I had time only for a short ride today, because I had other plans. Some of my riding companions tried to entice me to climb a few more hills, but I stayed the course: 15 miles, 1,735 feet of climbing was all. [Enough, really.]

The Monterey Bay Aquarium is celebrating its 35th year, and tonight there was a party for members. Julie Packard shared institutional insights, from skeptics who doubted that an aquarium primarily focused on one ecosystem (the Bay) could endure, to becoming a model for aquariums around the world. For those of us who don't go diving, the Aquarium has opened up a world of wonderment. I remember visiting for the first time in 1988, and after I moved to the Bay Area I eagerly joined as a member.

I spent some time observing one pelagic red crab chase others around. Some scurried out of harm's way when they noticed the aggressor was on the move, and I noticed at least one possible “victim” (missing a claw).

Without the crowds, member nights are ideal for exploring corners I usually avoid, like the Splash Zone. There, in an unassuming tank, I found a fish that blew my mind: the leaping blenny. A fish out of water, wriggling from rock to rock, breathing air?!

The jellyfish, always mesmerizing, were as photogenic as ever. And best observed from the dry side of the glass!