This last summer my grandson Josh and I took off to climb Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48. His success, and my failure, were recounted in an earlier post, so we'll not repeat my embarrassment. But the Whitney ascent begins with a nice, fairly moderate wooded trail. In my ignorance, I assumed the rest of the trail would be as easy. But like the pic of the trail shows, relatively soon the timberline took over, an altitude too high for trees to grow, and few plants of any kind. The woods gave way to ...
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Dualing I Pods
Funny how you can know a guy for over 50 years, take dozens of multi-state bikes trips together for multiple decades, and not know some of his darkest secrets. Take Jerry for example. After all this time, only on our last trip to Oregon and Washington and down the California coast did I discover the depths of his depravity. To me, one of the best features of our trips is to enjoy the ride and the country and to ponder it in its natural silence. Kinda like the Simon and Garfunkel song, "Sounds of Silence." Now, I knew Jer took an I Pod on our rides, which I ...
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image by backcountrymaven.com
Living Well
Mid September, and the end of a three month motorcycle tour of the US was in sight. Money had begun to run low, and Denver had just gotten snow. A bit east of Aspen I came across my own personal campground, deserted with the onset of the fall that comes early to the high country. Gold already adorned the aspen, and a likely looking trout stream ran next to my site. Lacking a license but unable to resist some temptations, I threw in a line, trusting in solitude, and landed a decent sized rainbow.
Earlier I'd picked up some ...
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Ballots or Bombs
Isn't this a great season, as the upcoming national election kicks off, almost two years early? The politicking brings out our best and worst, some thoughtful comments intended to persuade the marking of ballots, along with verbal bombs with asinine and degrading and insulting comments about the "other" side. Can't help but love it, right? Only if you're ...
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I Whine Until I Win
Not, this post won't address the billionaire running for the Republican nomination, but his line, combined with one from my dad, and my work on excavating our back yard and hauling dirt in a wheelbarrow, all together, have caused me to ponder an important issue of spiritual formation. Complaining.
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Failure?
With great anticipation, I made a Facebook post last week. Yeah, I skipped the blog post, but my grandson Josh and I were on our way to climb Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48 states. So I put up a pic of our goal, Mt. Whitney, at 14,508 feet. It's above. Under it is Trail Camp, at 12,000 ft. the last stop before Whitney. Understand my eagerness to climb it.
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Working Backward
I'm consumed with returning our yard back to good condition after six years of rental neglect left it overgrown or dead. One task: remove the back lawn and replace it with a brick patio. Rarely for SoCal in June, over 1" of rain fell last weekend, which softened the turf enough to remove easily. Well, easier than if it were hard and dry. So I eagerly started in with a shovel and old muscles and fairly quickly excavated 3/4 of the 600 sq.ft., only to realize I'd created a problem.
Take a close look...
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Ride Free
Just after graduating from college, I worked long enough to buy a Honda 350 Scrambler motorcycle and to save a few bucks, and took off for Canada. My only objective: visit a former college roommate who had moved to Kamloops. No other plan, no watch, just a few maps and a little cash. The only time frame: return for the start of grad school in late August.
The primary road above, through the redwoods of northern California, saw a lot of detours. Every intriguing sign, every interesting side road, every wild hair changed the route. 10 states and 2 countries, 30 days and 6,000 miles, and my life changed
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