My third novel, The Shadow of God, is published and out for professional review.  I'll be officially announcing it once the reviews come back.   So, it's time to get going on my fourth book.  But what should I write?

Having spent most of my life as a fanatic reader, usually reading four to six books a month, I feel like I could write books in pretty much any genre, except, perhaps, fantasy - I haven't read many of those and it's not a genre that appeals to me. 

But so far, each of the novels I've written has been completely different from the others.  I really don't have a genre.

As a new author, I've looked for advice from successful authors.   Hugh Howey and others suggest finding that genre.   You need to know what shelf your book would be found on in a bookstore.  Once you know this, write several books in the genre, and readers, who tend to pick books within just a few genres, will find you.  But what genre do my books fit into?

My first book, The Silicon Lathe, is a semi-autobiographical novel about the Silicon Valley.  Anywhere there is a lot of money to be made, people will show their best and their worst.   The Silicon Lathe tells the story of young people trying to make it.  Some get rich, some fail, some are just screwed by bigger or greedier players.  Since it was my first novel, I learned a lot about keeping a story together for 400 pages, but it doesn't fit easily into a definable genre. 

I still haven't published Ethics, my second book - I can't quite figure out how to rewrite it to eliminate my personal risk in publishing it while preserving a tight storyline.   Still, I realize that some of the characters in the book came alive for me and that I'd really like to get to know them better as they get older and their careers progress. 

And as I think about The Shadow of God, I have other characters that I've really come to admire.  I'd like to see what becomes of them too. 

One of my favorite fun-to-read authors is John Lescroart.  Most of his novels take place in San Francisco and include characters from previous novels he's written.  But he changes it up.  Sometimes, Dismas Hardy (#dismashardy) is the main focus.  Other times, Abe Glitsky (#abeglisky) is the focus.  And in still others, it can be a spouse or another lesser character that comes to the fore.  Dismas Hardy, Abe Glitsky and different main characters are usually present, but as readers, we get to see the spotlight shift.  Many of his books fit into an almost-series.  However, ultimately, we get to know each character individually across several books as they take on different roles in each story. 

So, since I like this idea of changing up characters and focus, but carrying them forward in future books, what do I have to work with from what I've already written? 

I can't really come up with anything from The Silicon Lathe that I can carry forward.  But in Ethics, I really like George and Janey Gray.  George is a somewhat awkward young reporter for a national newspaper who tries to discover why a Silicon Valley entrepreneur, who appeared to have it all, suddenly commits suicide.  His wife Janey is a genius software developer who often helps George with technology issues and keeps him on track as he pursues his investigations.

In The Shadow of God, I have Mike McKensey, San Francisco homicide detective, and May Reeves, homicide detective for Marin County.  Both are somewhat jaded veterans who have survived divorces and have seen the best and the worst humanity has to offer.   They start working together on a series of murders. 

I also have Samantha Louis, a psychiatrist just starting out on her career who stumbles into a once-in-a-lifetime case. 

And, as I look at these two books, I realize that both revolve around people who appear normal, but who have major psychological issues simmering just below the surface.  In Ethics, George and Janey try to find the person who drove the entrepreneur to suicide.  In The Shadow of God, Mike and May pursue a serial killer while Samantha treats a very disturbed person who may be that killer. 

So, we now have characters with psychological problems/mental illness, two police detectives, a young reporter and his genius technologist wife, and a psychiatrist who's just starting out on her career.  I think I see where this can go.  In future novels, one or more of these characters can try to identify/help/catch the people with psychological problems.  I can see the police, reporter, and psychiatrist working against each other in some situations, and working together in others. 

Could be interesting.  I'd really appreciate any ideas or comments you might have. 

By the way, if you're interested in possibly winning a free, signed and personally dedicated copy of The Shadow of God, follow the link below to the GoodReads giveaway.

In the picture at left, it looks like Les Trois Couronnes looms over Guethary.  In reality, it's about 15 miles away.  But for me, this mountain marks the Pays Basque.  It does loom over the entire area.  When I see it, I know I've finally arrived at the place I first visited forty years ago.   And every time I see it during my visits to the area, I'm overwhelmed with a sense of the magic of the place.  

 I'm not sure that Les Trois Couronnes has the same allure for the locals who often talk about La Rhune, a nearby mountain that's about two hundred feet higher and which has historical legends of dragons and witches.  But La Rhune has been tamed.  There are radio towers and even a train to the top.  Hikes around it are beautiful, but for me it just doesn't compare.  Les Trois Couronnes is accessible only on foot and requires some endurance to reach.  You don't see many people on the way up or down.  It's a beautiful spot.

Several years ago on one of our first visits to the Pays Basque, a friend mentioned that they had climbed Les Trois Couronnes. Karen and I knew we had to do it.  On each of our subsequent visits to the Pays Basque, we hiked the trails that ultimately led us to the multiple
peaks.  Unfortunately, with Karen's hip injury, for the past several years 
we were unable to revisit the mountain.  But with Karen's recovery, this was one of the first things on our agenda for our spring trip this year.  Of course, before tackling the climb, we wanted to be sure that Karen could hike - she'd proved herself with the Big Sur Marathon 21-mile walking race, but that was walking, not climbing on a rough trail. 

So, during  our first few days in the Pays Basque, we did other hikes.  After successfully taking the Sentier Litorral into Saint Jean de Luz and back (about 6 miles each way), we tried a challenging hike at Biriatou.  Karen had no problems so we planned on climbing Les Trois Couronnes two days later.  But, as the Israeli's say, Man makes plans and God laughs. 

It started  raining. 

 Or maybe I should say that aside from a day or two where we had other commitments, it rained every day during our six-week stay.  Having once been caught at the top of Les Trois Couronnes in a rainstorm, we knew we didn't want to face
water cascading down the rocky trails and slippery slopes.  

So, by the end of this trip, because of all the rain, we were disappointed that we were unable to  make the hike to Les Trois Couronnes.  But I keep thinking about it.  The weather turned beautiful our last few days there and if not for the commitments...  But surfing, walking, shopping for dinner, and even playing disc golf, the mountain seemed to insist.  And now that I'm back in Santa Cruz, I need some closure, so I thought I'd write a blog about Les Trois Couronnes and I'd include pictures from previous hikes (plus a few I borrowed).

The Trois Couronnes, also known as Penas de Haya in Spanish, consists of three main peaks:  Irumugarrieta at 806 meters (2644'), Txurrumurru at 826 meters (2710') and Erroilbide at 836 meters (2743').  You've got to love those Basque names.  To get there you take the N-1 into Irun and then the GI-3454 into the park for about 5 miles.  Half a mile or so after the road crests, you'll see a parking area on the left with large signs.  This is the Col d'Elurretxe.  There are several trails that wind up and around the peaks from here but unless you're planning to do some rock climbing, avoid the trail on the right.  We'll probably give it a try on a nice day.  To my understanding and from the pictures I've seen, this is the only way to go if you want to do a full loop as opposed to an up and back down the same trail.  The climb up the rocks looks reasonable though a rope is recommended for beginners.  However, the climb down the rocks is treacherous, so going in the reverse direction is not advised.   

From the parking lot, the left trail passes the high voltage power 'pole' and then winds through a scenic section of the east side of the peaks.  At a less than obvious fork, you need to turn right and follow the fence to the edge of the trees beyond.  It takes a few minutes to find the next trail marker in the trees, but if you walk straight up, you'll find the trail again.   It winds upwards past a bunker built during the Spanish Civil War, then gets a bit rough.  The rough trail affords  numerous views of Irun and Hendaye and the French Pays Basque. 

The trail continues upwards and about 45 minutes into the climb, you'll reach the Cueva del Juncal - a cave with a shrine to the patron saint of Irun.   You're actually just a few feet below the summit of Irumugarrieta.

If you go to the right of the cave, there is are some great views of the peaks as well as views of the valleys to the west in Spain.  You'll pass a large fracture in the rocks which is apparently a somewhat extensive cave.  We haven't explored it yet.  Beyond that, there is a metal sculpture by Eduardo Chillida, a renown Basque sculptor famous for large outdoor pieces.  This one is small but well-placed. 

To get to the top of the first peak (Irumugarrieta), go back the way you came and climb up over the Cueva del Juncal.  It's not far. 

The next peak, Txurrumurru, is a 5-10 minute walk/easy climb on a spectacular trail. 

Another 5-10 minutes with some more challenging climbing and you can reach the summit of Erroibide.  You'll see that the 'trail' down to the other side is not easy.  A rope would be nice as there is a hook in the face of the rocks.  It looks much easier to climb up than to go down.  Hence the reason to take the other trail from the bottom if you want to do a full loop. 

The descent affords quite a few impressive views of the Pays Basque.  Since I'm paranoid about falling, I tend to go slower down the mountain than going up.  The total round trip time after exploring the caves, sculptures and vistas, and taking pictures is about two hours.    The day the deluge hit, it was much longer.  The steep part of the trail became a raging torrent of water and visibility was limited with the pounding rain and wind.  If the weather looks questionable, I'd postpone your hike for another day.  Unfortunately, with all the bad weather on our most recent trip, we delayed and delayed.  Hopefully we'll be spending more time on Les Trois Couronnes  in the fall.  With luck, we'll succeed on the hard route.   As this point, we can only dream and look at pictures from past trips. 

If you get to the Pays Basque, you can't help but be impressed by Les Trois Couronnes any time you look south towards Spain.  As imposing as it may appear from below, Les Trois Couronnes is a truly magical place to hike.   

After a great surf session in Bidart on the north end of the Plage du Centre, I noticed that the Sentier Littoral continued up the cliff into the trees above.  I realized that for all the times we've taken the Sentier Littoral into Saint Jean de Luz, and south of there from Ciboure into Hendaye, we'd never actually walked it to the north.  I'd mistakenly assumed that once it got into Bidart, the village just north of Guethary, it just followed roads along the cliff with the highway not far away.  Seeing this trail, I suspected I was wrong.

After a nice lunch on our mini-terrace which looked at Bidart, we decided to walk the northern part of the Sentier Litorral.  Bidart is a village of about 6,000 people (about 5 times the size of Guethary).  Even though it's literally across the street from us and the village center is a 20 minute walk away, we've never explored it, thinking it was much more commercial. 

We left the house and walked the 5 minutes down to Parlementia which is officially part of Bidart but seems to be part of Guethary - at least to most of the locals.  There's a nice trail past the La Bahia restaurant on the edge of the water which continues up the hill and onto rural streets.  The picture at the left is a shot just as we were leaving the street to follow a pretty trail down to the beach below.  The trail continues along the beach to the small l'Uhabia river, then along the rock border to a bridge.  It crosses an open area then goes on to city streets much as we expected. 

We turned towards the Plage du Centre and stopped at the top to take a picture looking south back towards Guethary - this is the first picture in this post.  Note that the sky looks clear and beautiful.  Unfortunately, to the east, thunderheads had developed and it looked like they were moving our way.  We took the trail down the cliff and as we stopped to watch the surf for a few minutes, the first drops began to fall.  Within seconds it was pouring and marble-sized hail started falling.  We sought shelter under Tantina de la Playa - one of our favorite restaurants - and waited for the hail to stop.  What looks like a grainy photo  is actually a clear photo. The 'grains' are hailstones.  Within minutes, all the surfers had flipped their boards over and crawled under them to protect themselves from the incessant onslaught of balls of ice.  After twenty to thirty minutes it stopped.  Since there were clearly more storms to the east, we decided to race home where we watched a spectacular lightning show.

With better weather returning, we retraced our path the next morning.  We continued past Tantina de la Playa to the trail I'd seen and made our way up the cliff.  We were pleasantly surprised by the vistas as the trail wound its way up to a point about 320 feet above the ocean.  The trail quickly emerged onto a small city street which paralleled the cliff.  Stately Basque villas and elegant four and five-starred hotels lined the cliff. 

Not far along the road, the trail turns left into the forest.  Winding through the trees, it descends down to Erretegia beach.  For years this has been a popular beach in Bidart.  It's a little out of the way and is nicely tucked away from larger beaches to the north and south.  Unfortunately, with the strong storms of this past winter, landslides and erosion have reduced the once extensive beach to a relatively small patch of sand.  The owner of one of the surf schools told me that this has decimated his business. 

Officially, the Sentier Littoral turns back up the hill along the access road to Erretegia.  It then parallels the N10 highway for hundred yards before ending half a mile away on city streets.

We noticed a much smaller trail leading north along the cliff just above the beach at Erretegia so  we decided to try that.  As we got to its highest point, we looked back south across  Erretegia and saw this ancient structure built into the cliff above the beach. 

Turning north again, the trail forked and offered an opportunity to regain the Sentier Littoral a hundred vertical feet above, but we decided to continue north along the lower trail.

This narrow trail wound its way down the cliff where there were several side trails dropping down to mostly-deserted clothing-optional beaches which extend to the beach below the Pavillon Royal near the border of Biarritz.   The Pavillon Royal was built by Queen Natalie of Serbia in the late 19th century when she separated from her husband.    It's a spectacular manor called Les Ailes (the Wings) that is now owned by the Latécoère family.

As we neared the Pavillon Royal, the trail turned up the hill back towards the north end of Bidart.  There was another very small, overgrown trail with lots of thistles and nettles which appeared to stay on the cliff all the way to the Pavillon Royal beach and campground, but we decided to skip it since we were in shorts and running shoes. 

Instead, we made our way up the hillside past an elegant hotel and on to the small side streets of Bidart.  According to Karen's GPS watch, we'd covered just under 4 miles.  Since we were hungry and had forgotten to buy bread, we decided to race back along the streets to our favorite bakery not far from our place in Guethary.  We made it just before they closed and noted that our total distance was 6 miles. 

As I mentioned, we've often done the 5-mile walk south along the Sentier Litorral into Saint Jean de Luz for lunch or a movie but never considered the walk north.  Now that we've seen the beauty of the trails in the cliffs of Bidart, when we want a nearby hike (as opposed to a walk), we'll do these northern trails again. 

Last year for our wedding anniversary, Karen agreed to take some time off.  Normally when we're in France she works as much or more than she does at home, but this time, she agreed to take a few days to explore some of southern France.   Of course no trip these days is possible without disc golf, so we decided to at least check out two of the courses on our way from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.   Our first stop was intended to be a short visit to a ski resort that had a disc golf course.  We had visions of the amazing course at Kirkwood, and the vistas as we wound our way up to the Le Mourtis ski resort didn't disappoint us.  

Unfortunately, as we climbed the mountain, the winds and clouds increased, and by time we pulled into the only open restaurant/bar, it was raining.  The people were friendly and did know about disc golf, even offering to lend us discs, but they warned us that with the construction going on, the course was in a state of disrepair. 

We found most of the tees, but many of the baskets had been damaged and there was lots of heavy equipment on the ski slopes.  They had knocked down trees, moved huge amounts of earth right in front of tees, and scared the face of a beautiful mountain.  I'm sure it will look much nicer covered in snow. 

We left Le Mourtis disappointed but excited to get to our next destination, Sauveterre-de-Rouergue, a very small village about an hour northeast of Toulouse.  We were staying at Le Senechal, a hotel with a Michelin-starred restaurant.  We had dinner reservations for our anniversary, the next night.    Sauveterre-de-Rouergue  also had an 18-hole disc golf course with baskets. 

We checked into the hotel, confirmed our reservation for dinner, then asked if there was anywhere we could eat get dinner locally that evening.  The owner of the four-star hotel told us that their restaurant was closed for the evening, but that there would certainly be a restaurant open in the square. 

Sauveterre-de-Rouergue is a Bastide, build in the 13th century in the land of 100 valleys.  It sits on top of a hill, and as a Bastide, is a small rectangular village built around a central courtyard - the 'square'.  It was after 7pm and we were hungry. 

Unfortunately, all the restaurants in the square were closed.  We wandered around and found a small epicerie (grocery store) that was open, but whose shelves were largely empty.  We spoke with the owner, who assured us that at least one restaurant was always open.  The different restaurant owners coordinated the days they closed.  The owner of the epicerie walked us over to each restaurant and was surprised that they were all closed.  She called the owners who told her that since the high season had ended the day before, they had all decided to close for that one evening. 

She took us back into her store to try to find something for us to eat.  We ended up with olives, crackers, cheese, dark chocolate bars, and a 3 euro bottle of wine.  She apologized for being out of wine and called the wine seller around the corner, but he, too, was closed.    She lent us a corkscrew and we went back to our hotel room where we sat out on the balcony and watched a spectacular sunset as we ate our dinner.   Surprisingly, the wine was quite drinkable. 

The next morning we got up early and walked down to the disc golf course in one of the valleys below the Bastide.  The course was far beyond anything we expected.  It was an 18-hole course in a setting of rolling hills, trees, and meadows with a creek running through it.   

The signage was the best I've seen on any course we've played.  At each tee, there is a sign with a perfect depiction of the terrain - each obstacle, tree, water, alternate pin placements, distances, recommended drives, and both pointers and descriptions to the next holes. 

The course itself was lush and green, but all of the open meadows had been recently mowed.  Many of the holes ran along the creek and with a few, you have to throw across the creek.  Officially, the creek is not out-of-bounds. 

Karen had recently bought a Vulcan Blizzard, and its flotation proved nice but challenging as at one point, I had to chase the disc down the creek.  It floated too well. 

At the end of our first day of play, we took a beautiful trail back up to the Bastide.  We had lunch at one of the restaurants on the square and were talking about disc golf when a middle-aged man approached us and asked if we played disc golf.  We told him we'd just finished playing the course there and that it was one of the most beautiful and well-laid out courses we'd ever played. 

He beamed with pride as he told us that he was the head of recreation for the area, that he designed the course, and that he did all the course maintenance.  While he didn't play himself, he'd done extensive research on disc golf an had hosted the French national tour there. 

He joined us for a drink and told us stories about the area.

That night, Karen and I had one of the best dinners of our lives at Le Senechal.  Michel Truchon, the chef, introduced himself and personally explained the preparation of each dish.  It was fall, so cepes (a remarkable mushroom), and chestnuts were in season and showed up prominently in most of our dishes that evening. 

The next morning, we played another great round of disc golf on this very special course then returned for a sumptuous breakfast (again prepared with local ingredients by Michel Truchon) before continuing our anniversary trip as we headed south and east in search of Templar treasure.  But that's another story. 

Almost three years ago, Karen asked me to join her in her new sport, disc golf.  I laughed.  After all, I'm a surfer, skier, hang glider pilot, whitewater kayaker - a risk sport person.  Why would I ever want to do something like disc golf?  Worse, while I'd thrown a Frisbee a few times decades ago, I was terrible at it compared to my friends in college who did all sorts of trick throws on the beach.   I couldn't imagine that this was something I would ever want to do. 

But Karen's son Victor had introduced her to the game/sport and she really seemed to like it, so I reluctantly agreed to give it a try.  She gave me a Valkyrie driver disc and a putter and off we went.  As expected, I was terrible. 

We started at DeLaveaga which is a world-renown championship course - probably way out of our league.  But we stuck with it, playing most days after work for an hour or two.  Somewhere along the line, we played the courses at Black Mouse, in the redwoods in Felton, and at Kirkwood, in the Sierra.   The beauty of these courses convinced me that disc golf is a reason to go hiking - most of the courses are in semi-remote areas and it can be a decent workout to play them.

On our next visit to France we brought a few discs with us, ready to play.  I printed the map of the course at Tarnos, located in Parc de la Baye, and Karen and I found it after searching for quite a while.  Unfortunately, we couldn't find any tees or markers for targets, and even worse, most of the park was under water after heavy rains.  We were discouraged.  To stay in practice, we found some open space areas in Anglet near the beach and practiced our throws with imagined targets.  

On our next trip to France, we took a portable basket.   Portable is probably overstated.  I called it luggable.  It weighs over 25 pounds and is awkward to carry when set up.  We played in the park at Anglet but it quickly grew boring and with other people walking though, difficult.  Searching the web, I found the website for  Disc Golf Sud Landes  and saw that I had been updated.    We went back to Tarnos, hoping to see other players.    We did our best to play the parts of the course we could identify from the map, but never played more than 8 or 9 holes, many of which we just made up.  At this point, Karen was just beginning her hip rehabilitation and was limited in how far she could walk.  

Once interested (I can't say 'hooked' yet), we wanted to keep playing on our extended visits to France.  I searched for disc golf courses in France and discovered http://www.disc-golf.fr/ which showed about 25 courses in France.  Unfortunately, there was only one course near our place in the Pays Basque and it appeared to be a target course - no fixed baskets.  The nearest course with baskets was over two hours away.  

A year later, we were arrived at Tarnos about noon on a Sunday morning.  I set up the basket in the parking lot and we pulled out our discs.  Much to our surprise, there were several disc golf players just finishing up a  game.  Jean, the president of the club introduced himself and told us that they played every Sunday morning at 9:30am. 

He showed us their baskets which couldn't have weighed more than a pound or two and explained to us that they had tried to put in a fixed course with permanent baskets but that the  baskets had been damaged and usually stolen for the metal.  One of the other players explained that Jean had designed their current portable baskets - impressive since even though they're so lightweight, they don't fall over when a fast moving disc hits them. 

We joined the club and started playing every Sunday morning, on holidays, and occasionally when someone has an afternoon off.  They gave us really cool short and long-sleeved shirts.   For the most part, the course is flat  but heavily treed with lots of blackberry bushes, nettles,  and thistles along the 'fairways'.  Bad shots often result in painful retrievals.  There are 6-8 par 4 holes depending on how they play the course on a given day.  With the trees and obstacles (including water), it's a challenging course.  

This past rainy Sunday,  there were 8 of us.  Jean, the president of the club is impressive.  On one of our outings he played the entire course with a putter and I think he still made par.  Michel has the most impressive forehand/side arm throw I've ever seen - a perfect 'S' every time.  Franck has developed some impressive distance and accuracy and is always bringing the latest discs which he orders from the States.  When I get back, I'll be deviating from my Innova disc obsession after throwing some of these new discs.  Bernard is remarkably consistent, including hitting very long (15 meter) putts.  Olivier is a newer player, probably a bit closer to Karen's and my levels.  Martine is Karen's friend who joined the club with us last fall.  She's already hitting quite a few pars in each game and competed in her first tournament this spring.   Pascal wasn't there this past Sunday but he too has an impressive arm.  We've also played with two Sebastiens, one of whom was injured in an accident and hasn't been able to play for several months.  We hope to see him back soon.

The club travels to competitions throughout France and hosts them in Tarnos from time to time.  All of the members are quite good - many are highly rated PDGA players.  There are roughly 17 members.  Even with the bad weather we've had during our current trip we see 8 or more playing on a Sunday.  This trip, we've learned a lot about playing in the rain. 

But the best thing about this group is how friendly and welcoming they are.   And, I have to admit that having 8 people look for a lost disc saves a lot of time and frustration (and I lose a lot of discs).  

As many of you know if you read My Miraculous Wife - Learning French, last week members of the club  invited us to a Landaise lunch where they fed us duck confit, salad Landaise with local white asparagus, grilled chipirons (calamari), magret de canard (duck filets), a fantastic potato dish, great deserts, and of course lots of local wine.  We had an incredible time.  

Disc golf with the Disc Golf Sud Landes club is the most fun we've ever had playing disc golf!  If you find yourself in southwestern France and play disc golf, you won't be disappointed if you show up at Parc de la Baye in Tarnos at 9:30 on a Sunday morning.

My next post will describe our disc golf experience at Le Mourtis and Sauveterre-de-Rouergue.