Really did not care for that punk Ludo on the latest Top Chef Masters. How the hell can he stand there and ask Rick Bayless' advice on cheese for his stupid quesadillas and then get pissy when Bayless says he's making tacos? He's Rick Bayless, for crying out loud; of course he is going to make tacos, you little jerk. The woman from Mustards Grill seemed nice, but she really needed to shut up about being old.

Camping in Mendocino was nice, the abalone abundant and tasty. Though less wind meant fewer trees were falling from the canyon walls into the campground this year, one came down at about four in the morning right above my site, almost literally scaring the crap out of me. I'd been lying there idly wondering whether my bladder was full enough to be worth getting up and trudging to the bathroom when there was a loud CRACK above my head. I decided the bathroom would be an excellent place to hang out for the next few minutes. By the time the sun came up, it was hard to tell exactly where the tree fell, but during breakfast another dead limb came down about 20 feet above the site. That provided all the motivation I needed to get packed up quickly and be on the road by noon.