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More Jewel Than Tool-foto by Rich Klinsky
Two stories, seemingly unrelated, except that they both deal with bikes and Glacier National Park. Oh yeah, somewhere there’s a point that should connect them.
Story #1: Somewhere on the Road to the Sun in Glacier lies an otherwise nondescript patch of dirt. No monument marks it, tourists don’t drive by to gawk at a historical site, and honestly, few would care to see it even after this story. But dirt can teach a lesson.
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Glacier National Park
I don’t know how many others suffer from this malady, but I seem to see the world through a six foot perspective. That’s the average height of most men, although I came up just a little short on that one. Now, the years have dropped me further from that exalted status of two yards. Even so, in a standing crowd I often judge if I’m taller than most, or shorter. I often come out ahead (pardon that bad pun).
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Photo courtesy of SippanontSamchai
I got stuck. Not in the frustratingly omnipresent but usually innocuous SoCal traffic, nor in job situations where we regularly have to deal with those less perfect than ourselves. Nothing so simple. I got stuck with God. Oh, I still believed and did what I should. Mostly, at least. And I saw him marvelously move in my life. But I lost the intimacy, the sense of close contact. It bothered me, especially that it went on for over a year.