The church building required refurbishing. Multiple decades had aged it, and minimal remodeling spoke of bygone eras. Even worse, the entrance was on the opposite side of the parking lot, well hidden to first time visitors. Many people drove in, saw no entrance, and drove right out. So we embarked on a major project to cut into a retaining wall to install steps, remove vegetation, craft a new entrance by the parking, and paint the entire interior. One of our leaders, an Air Force officer, led the painting crew, and I struggled ...
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Mark Twain cabin by Wikimedia.com
Last Legs
Mick and I left the rest of the riders in Sisters OR and headed home. Mt. Shasta provided a motel room, then we rode together the next morning until he split off to Susanville, to return the bike he borrowed from his son-in-law. I headed to Placerville as the starting point to cruise along Hwy 49, through the Gold Rush towns scattered along the Sierra foothills. Windy roads, finding Mark Twain’s cabin (above in the pic), and exploring the funky towns made it a long day until I found ...
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The Curse of Optimism
Long ago, I determined to look on the bright side of life. Earlier focusing on the dark side and possible problems and what others thought of me led to contemplations of suicide. My own. To balance my natural negative take...
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Sometimes You Win, Sometimes...
Some locals claim the upper Sacramento River, right under the I-5 bridge in Dunsmuir, may yield the best trout fishing in California. Pines creep right down to the water’s edge of the gorgeous stream, yet leave enough space to cast and still not get hung up. Too often, anyway!
I’m not sure about the quality of fishing, but I did come to doubt the fisherman’s rationale, “The worst day fishing beats the best day working.”
I’d caught one and lost another when...
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Friendly Fire
Rich began riding bikes a few years before me, on a Honda 350. I soon bought a similar one, then Rich moved up to a larger ride, the Harley Super Glide. Yeah, a few decades back. We’d rag on each other’s bikes—Rich defending Harleys, me defending Hondas. OK, once his wife thought we were ready to break out the fists, but it was a friendly rivalry. Let’s just call it spirited, OK? Much like the comparison in the pic above of a Harley and a Honda.
So when he T-boned me in Blythe, CA, it was accidental, right?
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Trout as Spiritual Teachers
Trout, much like the cutthroat in the pic above (by usgs.gov), have taught me much about the finer aspects of the spiritual life. Honest. Fishing for the hatchery-raised idiots in California’s roadside streams, Power Bait works well with these who don’t recognize genuine trout food. Scientific research has blended the scent trout love with a consistency that will stick on a hook, yet with no nutritive value. But I most love hiking into the backcountry to find ...
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image by latimes.com
Shalom in Ferguson?
Shalom in Ferguson? According to Strong’s Dictionary, shalom goes beyond “peace” to encompass “completeness, wholeness, health, peace, welfare, safety, soundness, tranquility, prosperity, perfectness, fullness, rest, harmony, the absence of agitation or discord.” What chance do you think Ferguson has in the near future for any of those?
But let me suggest Ferguson is merely a metaphor for America, or even the world. Stress...
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Albert
Why Worship?
I made a new friend last Saturday. Albert. Yeah, that’s his pic above. A squirrel. During a friend’s retirement party, standing under a tree, talking to another old friend, he gently mouthed, “Squirrel.” I slowly turned, about one foot from my face was who I later learned was Albert. Apparently he wanted some of the food so freely available, and I held a finger up for him to sniff. He promptly yet gently bit it, almost as if to say, “No, squirrel food. Please.” Quite used to humans, he never flinched when I reached down for my phone to snap some pics of him. He seemed to pose.
But another brief conversation with the wife of another old friend (get over all the “olds,” this WAS a retirement celebration) sparked this post. She mused, “Why does God need worship? Is his ego so fragile it needs stroking?”
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