Nothing like the last minute

 

The dreaded snow-bike - somebody's bad idea.

Putting things off too long

Here it is, literally the last minute.....again. I swore Id not let the yearend creep up on me, but who am I kidding. I'll never learn. So which is it, culture or behavior? Either way it is chronic. I could say that my fledgling little consulting business is consuming all of my time, but it is only a matter of priorities - or a simple lack of them. Success cannot not be left to simmer on the back burner, nor can life in general. I've said this too many times, but being comfortable will get you killed in this life and I think I'm getting too comfortable. So now I have ask the question; what is it really costing me? Do I really want to know? I hate the melancholy of the year end.

Early snow and a moon rising over Ben from S. Willard

Running into Reed this evening

Clients have been keeping me hopping - a lot. I have had this past year on my mind a lot in the most recent few weeks. This was especially true of our brother and his fight. I had thought to send him a message, but it just didn't seem to lend itself to he practical, or sincere. Again, I'm just a procrastinator - them's the facts. So.....earlier this evening I was on my way home from a very long day meeting with clients and their "opportunities", when I decided to stop at the Winco in Layton - for whatever reason. I hate shopping and am usually in and out of those places very quickly. As I was pushing the stupid shopping cart, I was looking at what I had tossed in the basket, wondering why it was I needed to stop at all. And then, like out of nowhere - there was Reed pushing a shopping-cart himself. I would never had expected to see him in such a place, but there he was - the same kid from our youth. Still the brightness that I remembered, but yet had also somehow forgotten. We chatted for a minute, but as shallow as the context may have been.....it cut deep. As I stood there I suddenly felt terribly small and inadequate. Realizing how I failed and how I met the meaning of that phrase "chicken-shit". But then I like I always seem to do, looking back at it a short time later, I had to remind my shallow self that its not about me. But there I was sizing up my inadequacy against the strength of a man that is fighting a battle that is more than most of us will ever understand. I don't believe in absolute coincidence, but then why did that have to happen? The message to me was very simple; quit whining, stop pouting and for hell sakes....stop making excuses. In those few words from Reed; he is very grateful, but doesn't take anything for granted (although he didn't use those exact words - but that was his message to me). That is why he is truly larger than life and a truly inspirational person - if we choose to face the truth. So...excuses aside, its time to put down the frivolous and take-up the fight. MAKE IT COUNT!

How I miss that pain.....heading back over Monte from Woodruff.

A couple past jersey sleeves

I have a ton of picts from years past. Some like the one above remind me of what suffering can feel like. Then there are the ones like those below that remind me of how insignificant my petty suffering actually is. Howard D. is my son-in-laws dad. He was fighting his own battle at that time, when his son was my support crew chief. He lost his fight only a few months later. The blue sleeve....well he lost his fight earlier that season. Since then we have lost too many others, Cynthia, Mark and of course sweet Laurie....and those are only a few. So here's the thing, it's time to put things in order and carry that load as if I really mean it at all. But then again, it's not about me. It is about those individuals being THE strength and inspiration. How can I be so ungrateful as to not walk upright and tall in their honor and memory. Afterall, it's not like I'm taking incoming fire or anything like that. I just wilt to the weakness of the flesh. Time to assess and take an inventory. Give it 30 days and then swing back around.

Thanks for putting me in my place Reed. Nothing is by coincidence........

One for the barn....

Click here for a little truth from Paul & Linda (and the boys)

The Porpoise - 2024

Looking for the offramp

When the smallest tree can make the longest shadow on the mountain....

Noticing

The other morning something caught my attention across the mountain, just off the side of the rock face. The conditions had to be exactly right for this to happen; sun very low on the horizon, enough snow to not cover the tree too much, perfectly clear blue sky (a ton of heavy smog/fog in the lower valley) and exactly the right time of the morning. The position of that particular tree atop the crest of a hill, allows its shadow to cast many times longer than the height of the tree itself, whereas the tree directly below can only cast its shadow just over that crest. This will only happen for a few days at most and the conditions have to be exactly right for it to happen - but that day it was very noticeable. That's one of those things in life that come along sparingly.... Catch them when you can. Be larger than your own self, when life permits.

 

In the brush heading up Mules Ear

Seems like a lifetime ago

So much has happened this past summer. Searching through the pictures of this past season, it just seems to have been in another lifetime. Frankly, it was a year worth forgetting. What started out as early optimism, eventually turned into one distraction after another. Stupid unfounded heart issues, followed by structural failures....the summer just got off to a bad footing. Trying to make it up on a short timeframe was not a winning strategy either. Frustration fraught with a bad attitude and that bad attitude really cost me in the end. There weren't nearly enough dirt rides up in the park and the rides on the hard tail was just stacking miles in the end - something I swore off a long time ago. Gone are those days where I would get on my road bike early in morning and disappear until later in the afternoon - spent and burned from a long day just stacking those miles. Perhaps this is what happens when....life happens. Priorities change and before you know it, life has passed you by.

So, what about this heart thing anyway?

Sometime about the middle of May, I started to have what felt like heart palpitations, followed by occasions of lite-headedness when I'd stand up. I keep track of these things and have a cuff and pulse-oximeter. They were telling me my heart rhythm was screwed up, so I decided to go to the clinic and have it checked out. Sure enough, they diagnosed it as atrial-fibrillation. Next stop was the hospital, at which point they hooked we up again and said it was happening while I was sitting there. Funny thing, I didn't feel any different than just normal - like.....lets go move a piano or something like that. What was very unusual, my heartrate was only fluctuating between between 65 - 75 BPM, where as A-fib usually is in the range of 200 BPM. I mean, I do have a naturally low resting heartrate like in the mid to high 40's, but that still didn't make much sense. A couple weeks later I'm in seeing an electro-physiologist, coincidently a hardcore cyclist himself. He prescribed a heart monitor for 30 days - which is such a serious hassle. Through all of that, not a single problem - none at all. He was still pretty skeptical, but told me to go ride and come back to see him a few weeks after the race. On that return visit, I told him that during the race I peaked my heartrate at 170 BPM, was anaerobic for something like 35 minutes and over 2 full hours in transition. When he heard that his eyes got really big and said, something like wow! I was certain he would want to perform an ablation, but he asked a few questions and we discussed training levels further before he told me to go home and stay after it. Call him if something changed, but otherwise nothing to see here. 

Basically, I think I was fighting a bug that caused the irregular heart rhythm, resulting in the fibrillation.  The electro-physiologist says that A-fib is common in amateur endurance athletes, as we tend to stress our hearts - a lot. Professional endurance athletes don't have this problem as they train for 30 hours a week in zones 2 & 3. Regardless, it is a thing to keep in mind and monitor, but I can't let it slow me down. For now, manage the diet and stay diligent. 

Time to wrap it up....

Another week or so, and we'll put this season in the can.....and to the bottom of the ocean. Training plans need to be set out and detailed. Next year has to be something more than ordinary. In fact, it needs to be extraordinary - nothing less. That will require planning, drive, sacrifice and diligence.  A little more on that in the next week or so. There are also a few loose ends to tie-up along the way....so maybe a couple more posts. Until then...rock it wherever life takes you.

Click here for "The Other Guy" - a twelve bar twist to a classic

Keep taking that pull for Reed.

Things are closing down

 

2023 SR39 Monte Cristo, Snow-gate closed late into the year.

Changes and regrets

Yesterday marked the official closing of Monte Cristo. The snow-gate on the west side (Ogden Valley) is at MP 37, whereas the gate on the east side (Rich County) is between MP's 55 & 56. Who's to say what the winter and the spring (for that matter) will bring. It may be mid-June before that gate is opened again. Even if it is a mild winter, DOT won't open it again until sometime in May at the very earliest. It seems kind of silly as they put a ton of money into that road every year, only to have it open for half of the year. Not a lot can be done other than lament the lost opportunities and think of what can be....next time. And there is the phrase that really says it all - "next time". How many times have I personally thought what I would do if I had to do it all over again? Lets not dig up that garbage right now.

Snow to stay

This past week has seen the seasonal snow hit North Fork for the long haul. Temps going into the previous couple weeks we regularly into the low teens at night, meaning a frost was pushing into the soil. The foot of very wet and dense snow we had yesterday is here to stay until spring. I'm still not sure about that snow-bike, but I'm still not giving up on dragging a bike somewhere to get a little riding in before the lower valley is also out of commission for the season. The image above was from a warm summer's evening at the end of doing some hill repeats. Sweating my gut out, glad for the break out of the sun and punishing heat. That seems like a lifetime ago. Now the drill is getting up at 04:00 most mornings to see if snow needs to be moved before starting the day. We could have days where I have to move snow several times, or may not see a storm for months - you never really know how the winter will develop. Meanwhile, keeping atop the task is critical, if not impossible sometimes. Winter can be hard and they seem to get longer as I get older. Maybe I am getting older.....

An August Ride  - Looking toward Randolph from Woodruff.

Too Comfortable

There is this thing phycologists call "Stockholm Syndrome", where a captive takes to defending the captor to the point of even joining the perpetrator in the restraining effort. This was the defense some fifty-years ago when Patty Hurst joined her captors and became a "rebel" herself. I'm not sure I believe that particular case, but I do know it is real. The premise that when a person is a captive and sees their captor as the thing that is keeping them alive, maybe even being protected by said captor. At that point surviving becomes comfortable and survival instincts are reprogrammed. Such is the case for anyone that gets too comfortable, as we can become captive to something that is holding us back. So you have to ask yourself (as I seem to do all too often without an answer), what is that thing that is keeping us comfortable? Truth is, being comfortable is dangerous. Whether it is sleeping-in, eating to excess, clicking on the next video....what is it that keeps us from breaking out of captivity? The first step to any such situation is to fully recognize and accept that it is real. From there must follow a desire to break away. Far too often I personally find myself giving into a situation that in a previous consciousness, I would never have considered. But here I am again. Sound familiar? Eventually I loose my willingness to fight back - something I could never imagine. But I seem to allow myself to be positioned into a corner, back against a wall, having few if any options. This being comfortable thing is too enticing.

Wrapping up in the next couple of weeks....

Looking for a suitable off-ramp. Stick around. Still have some pulling to do.

Classic Jeff "Skunk" Baxter - Click here for "Bodhisattva"

Pulling for Reed! Stick around..

Turning Pages

A short break between storms....a sucker hole.

 Times are changing

The sun low on the horizon is definitely a sign of the seasons. There was a day, maybe when I was much younger, I loved this particular time of year. I loved to be out in the field hunting just about anything. Well before I was old enough to carry a gun myself, I would lay awake in bed in anticipation of waking up early and driving into the unknown darkness with my dad - to where adventure would await. I remember one morning I woke up sicker than a dog. No way I was going to tell my dad, as he wouldn't let me go with him. There was no way I would miss that opportunity - sick or not. Generally the conditions were miserable. Cold, windy, wet.....always out well before sun up. It didn't matter to me. I learned early on that I could suffer through anything if it was something I truly wanted - and suffer I did, but I loved every minute of it. As I got older, these trips were less to do with my dad, replaced by friends or co-workers, but it just wasn't the same. My dad was older than all of my friends parents by a long way. I mean, he seemed to be closer to the age of some grandparent than the parents of my friends and teammates. Still, he would hike up and down those fields pushing whatever we were after. Boy could he shoot! I can't tell you the kinds of shots that "old bird" made over the years. Those days slowly ended and my hunting was soon just me and my loyal yellow-lab. Why that dog was ever so loyal to me is still a mystery, as dogs generally have a pretty good judge of a mans character. Eventually that dog died and my hunting days kind of ended. All the places I used to go chase coyotes became inaccessible - more or less. The hours alone with my coyote gun on snowshoes was always time to reflect, but that ended eventually as well. Tomorrow marks two years since I told my former employer to "go & piss up a rope" - which probably requires considerable surface tension. It just seems the sun low on the horizon does me no good anymore.

The hardtail in 30° riding conditions

Pushing through

Back in my college days, it seemed there was always something that gave you hope. Looking past the week, staying up late to get something done, knowing it was only ten-weeks  (the quarter system). The time I squandered doing nothing but anything that didn't seem to matter. Then wondering why I was always finding myself against the wall when it came time for mid-terms or finals. Some how I managed to get through, but it wasn't pretty at times. I've learned a lot over the years, but still find myself getting burned out and not focusing on the important things. Now days it seems tasks are just lined up from one to the next, with no general purpose. It's in those moments you just have to keep chopping wood - head down and swinging until the task has been completed. Storms are lining-up in the Pacific again, indicating the likelihood of another hard winter. I have a lot of office work in the mill, but also have a ton of field work to make it all happen. Spring is not that far off, but until then I'll just keep chopping the wood. 

Darn cold in Woodruff at the moment, but....

What I wouldn't give....

How may times have you ever thought how you wished you could do what you otherwise couldn't do at that moment? You know, the greener grass? Riding Woodruff is a helluva ride - kind of a ride through hell to be honest. That said, I miss that particular kind of suffering, only to know that one day it will be behind me - never to be on my yearly training list again. The heat of climbing up that backside, headwind straight into the nose. The posture fatigue and cramps. Running out of water, looking for anything that resembles shade. What I wouldn't give to be in that place right now. Here's the thing, there is a price to pay before making that ride - like a ton of work and dedication. Early mornings doing indoor routines while not able to get outside. Managing the machine that has to carry me over the top of a lot of mountains - discipline, discipline, discipline. And then there is what I do, which doesn't look anything like discipline. Kind of make me wonder what I could really do if I did focus for a fraction of the time that I should. But that seems to be how life is; wishing for something that we end up squandering anyway - until we realize what we really have and then it's too late. 

Here's to growing up and still not getting it right most of the time....

Click here for some classic GLAM - the DOLLS "Stranded in the Jungle"

Still pulling for Reed! And he's doin' it!

Another Trip Around the Sun?

From the Vault - Autumn sunrise 2020

 Birthday wishes

Funny how we may become fixated on the laps of time and our ever increasing age. Truth is, we have gained a lot of experience in our time here on the "big blue marble". Sometimes the benefit of that experience gets lost in the desire to put pain and misery behind us, when we should hold every one of those as monuments to our character growth. It has made us who we are. So what is really in a happy birthday wish anyway? Sure, there is the wish for all things that are good, prosperity and health. But what makes us grow to become stronger is our capacity to overcome hardship - so why not which for those things that will makes us more than we already are. I wouldn't suggest dwelling on the negative, but certainly don't discard it either. All that said, here's to another year of good health, prosperity and all that comes with those things.

Things in common

A couple weeks ago, I was able to share an evening with a couple of my most favorite people in the world. An occasion to see that troupe "Leonid and Friends" - a genuine great time. And what makes it great is everything and everyone there. These guys  (L&F) are great and I recommend it to anyone that enjoys a great live act. These guys are perhaps the hardest working act on the road today. I mean....we're talking a Russian, Chicago cover band, but that really doesn't cover the depth of the experience. Find these guys on YouTube, or go to their website. Simply amazing! The second time we've seen them, as we caught them last year during their first visit to the Beehive. So what does this have to do with things in common? It made me realize how much so many of us cling to the same things from our youth. In one particular part, the sax-payer is doing a little "guess that song" and veers unexpectedly in to a chorus of "Sweet Caroline". The entirely packed crowd at Kingsbury Hall start singing along with him, as he plays impromptu and solo as though an anthem. But then that short chorus part- everyone singing in unison;

"Swett Caroline, 

                            bum,

                                    bum,

                                            bum,

                                                       Good times never seemed to be so good."

It was at that moment I understood we all had these similar experiences growing up - seared into our souls. And then the part when technology showed its head, where cell phone lights were all lit in place of what used to be the convenient BIC lighter. This woman in front of kicking it old school, pulls out the real things and strikes up the torch - CLASSIC & AWESOME! In those moments all differences are checked at the door and our common interests prevail. Embrace those things that we have in common and don't focus on our differences. It's amazing how much we do have in common with each other despite some differences. Maybe, just maybe we can learn to amplify our similarities and forget that we have any differences. That doesn't mean we give up on our personal convictions, only keep them in check and respect and appreciate those things we do share. After all, its a big sand box and we need to share with others.....

A little rag-horn.....

Still getting the miles on......

The colder weather has caused a delay on rides on days that I can actually ride, but I'm still getting out when I can - while I still can. I ran across this little bull elk up west of the Monastery the other day. All alone and only about 100-yards off the road. It was in no hurry to get up, but also didn't seem to be distressed. I couldn't get close enough to see if it had ben wounded, but I suspect it ran off from a hunting unit a few miles up the mountain. It's just one of those things you stumble across when you are stacking miles. Riding this late in the year is truly different, as the sun is so low on the horizon, that even it's direct effect is limited. Layered up, most days I get back with feet and hands cold, with my core pouring sweat. It makes you feel alive and invested.

Looking forward

Old reliable atop Copper Mountain - 12,313 feet

2021 was a year nearly as bad as this past year. If I learned anything that year, it was that I can ride at 12,000 feet without much difficulty - I just have to screw my head on straight. Next year we are going back with the hardtail to finally challenge Leadville. Sure, there is a lot that can and will likely happen before next year. But why should that matter. If you keep your head pointed toward something long enough, you'll eventually find yourself at that place. To do it on your terms you have to be persistent and undeterred. So here we all are looking out over that horizon at what we hope to be and do. But are we equipped and willing to take on the challenge that comes with the dream? Afterall, without a plan, action and effort - it will only be a dream. And with that in mind, when did you dream about where you are today? Time to get off the duff and make it happen on your own terms....

A birthday gift.....

Out on the back patio with Helen, singing along.....

Click here for "Sister Golden Hair" America - A Birthday Memory

Pulling for Reed! Ride HARD!

Sorting it out

 

The annual trek above the flag in Cold Water Canyon

Not the hardest ride....

I was trying to remember when it first started. One thing I do remember is why it started - the flag above North Ogden just before election day and through Veterans Day. I grew up in the home of a war veteran, surrounded by by war veterans. Most of my life my dad rarely spoke of his time in battle. I heard countless stories about his time in "the service" as he put it - enough to know it wasn't for me. It wasn't until he was much older in life and facing his own grim battle with the "big-C" that he really started to opened up and told of the horrors and intense moments he experienced in battle. A few years before that, I had an interaction with another vet from that war - a survivor of Iwo. How it all came about is another story for another day, but I can tell you he told me of the most personal fear and experiences of a Marine coming ashore during the dreaded second wave at Iwo Jima, February 1945. As he started into sharing his experience, he stopped briefly and said "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I've not even told my own family about this", but he continued. It was simply amazing - he was telling me as though it happened only the day before. In his own words, he was frightened from the day they shipped out of San Diego until they docked back in San Francisco maybe a year later. He described laying in the hot volcanic sand as a stitch of machine gun bullets rolled across the line of men he was with, hitting the guy on one side and jumping over him before going down the line further - killing his training partner laying right there. A day or so later the same thing happened again, killing the Marine on his other side. This man was humble and never took a moment in life for granted. I was never cut from that cloth and couldn't live up to that courage and valor. Heroes in the truest sense. So riding up this single track is nothing at all when you consider what others have done to make it possible for others to have the opportunity to live free. A few years ago, while still "gainfully employed, a group of us were discussing the event that led to this entire flag thing above North Ogden. This fellow that has never once experienced the crack and bang of high-volume, high-power rifle fire coming in while down range, had the audacity to make a derogatory comment about the soldier that was killed in this particular event. My natural instinct was to climb his tree, but the influence of those vets that taught me also reminded me to respect another man's opinion - regardless. As hard as it was, I walked away, as nobody needed to be defended.......chicken shit!

Watching for ice....

Knowing ones limits and when to walk away

As was the case in the previous story, I have learned when to walk away - something that has come with age and a few "falls" along the way.  As the season turns cold, patches of ice can easily catch one off guard - and that can be a disaster. Having a front wheel washout on ice can drive your handle bars into a thigh, or worse yet break a big bone. Either way it can result in something that can finish you  - like period. All this in the name of trying to get a good ride in - because I still can. Somehow I still haven't learned my lessons well enough. A couple years ago I busted an ankle in a spot I didn't even need to be in to begin with. The simplest of things and places can turn on you in a second - and then life sucks. It is said there are two types of cyclist; those that have crashed and those that will crash. Truth is, mountain biking is proving to be rather dangerous, as crashes can be very unforgiving. Virtually every person I have ridden with over the years have experienced this first hand. This past summer there were numerous rescues, including a couple fatalities just in this area. So yeah.....knowing ones limits and when to walk away is something we all need to learn - one way or the other.

Before it got colder....

Perspective

Three hour rides have a tendency to provide more time to sort out the things that clutter my mind. And then there are those moments that are just so quiet that I can hear that feedback from the 1983 Urea Heap / Def Leppard concert - and it was a lot more than what turned out to be the loudest concert I had ever heard. I mean my teeth hurt for a week. Still, perspective is a funny thing, as enough time seems to reduce the intensity and urgency of a previous crisis, or event. Kind of funny how we often act with an impulse that we would have never planned in a million years - but here we are. Somehow we still land on our feet - somehow. Other times we have the scars to remind us of our moments of stupidity - if we are even that lucky.  Call it maturity, or maybe just life - given enough time our perspective does change. As I look back at that particular period in my life. I had no idea what I was doing and am lucky I lived to tell the tale. Moreover, I'm lucky I didn't do more damage. I can't imagine everyone has a similar story that can be compared -but I sure the hell do. Ever wonder what you would do or say if you could go back to that time in your life and tell yourself at that time, what could make a difference? Truth is, I had plenty of people telling me what I would have told myself had I the opportunity to go back and relay that message from the future. Too many times we are just to full of ourselves to listen. I wonder when that changes.....

Darn cold, but beautiful.

Rearranged and Cool Changes

Sometimes things in life take a little time to truly appreciate. Other times a little practice, persistence and patience can yield yet a better version of ourselves. Went out for a ride today - maybe around mid day when the temps were in the upper 30's. At 08:00 this morning it was still only 18 degrees. Going back to the ice watch - days like this has ice in places all day. Cold enough that I was sweating through the layers, while freezing in the extremities. A totally beautiful day, coming home in the shade of the mountain, making the final two miles colder yet. It only gets better with age and practice.

Click here for the Rearranged "Cool Change" it feels so good.....

Take a pull for Reed. Ride hard while you still can......

Roads of life

 

When you can ride there.....

Riding the hardtail has its advantages. Actually, I'm really enjoying the autumn season riding this year, as there aren't many restrictions - aside from time. Cutting off on some dirt roads and just.....going to see, because I can. Amazing how liberating it is and allows my mind to just wander - and wander it does. These three-hour rides can really clear they mind - and burn a few calories, like an average of 2,000 every outing. Occasionally I just forget I have things to do back at home (or office) and just take my time, but the price to pay afterward is kind of a bummer. And to think we thought growing up and getting to a retirement age would be great. Be careful what you wish for.....

Back on the "Mule" - Mules ear before it snows again.

Scots and Lass'  78 -81

Why it matters

Summer football had it's unique advantages of making new relationships well before school would begin. Such was the case that summer of '78. All of us...full of piss and vinegar as it were - or so we thought. By the time school started, we had a leg up on having a hand on our new and uncertain landscape - called high school. There was that one afternoon/evening following a sophomore home game early on, when we were hanging around with some of the other kids that weren't on the football team, but part of our class. It was amazing how we all just meshed together like a fine tuned machine - maybe even a Swiss-watch.  Okay, maybe like an old hand-cranked ice cream machine, but we just seemed to belong in the same....thing. This was our crew that would endure the same type of thing for the next three years and somehow come out of it as adults ready to conquer and maybe even change the world. All that rubbish aside, I still remember that little gathering and what it would eventually come to mean. There may have been a dozen of us there, down by the old weight-room, by the east doors. It was all so new to us all, and we had our entire lives ahead of us - but what the hell could we possibly know? There we were and nobody really cared what side of the tracks you may have come from, or anything else for that matter. How you dressed, hair style, employment....we were all just kids looking for something to hold onto for the moment. Eventually we'd have the confidence and the audacity to let go and fly on our own. Sometimes that confidence would be encouraged by our peers, other times we'd be pushed into it by necessity. The funny thing about it, I don't remember any real peer pressure. Maybe some skepticism, but mostly healthy dialogue - mostly. And that became the mechanism that would propel us forward into the big world.

Last chance to do any bushwhacking before it snows....

When you realize what you had...

I've written about our gang - a lot, over the years. Our class was in that period between the hippies and the big-hair. I'd say by'78 the hippies were pretty much onto changing the world one mushroom, or joint at a time. By the time, we left the ranch, music had gone mostly "techno-pop" and the hairspray was out of control. Sure there were a few hold-on's, but not many. Maybe this can be attributed to the "MTV" generation, but that certainly wasn't us - at least I don't think so. The autumn of our senior year was without a doubt the period when we were getting our wings and looking to fly into the uncertain horizon. I can't say I knew where I'd be going into that particular football season. It wasn't until the week before our opener that I decided to challenge for a position. Prior to that, I was playing just about everywhere on the field. I don't recall thinking about making that challenge prior to that very moment, but when I did, I wasn't about to let that other guy have a chance. The first go around I beat him solidly. That kicked off a slug of other challenges involving other positions and players - none of which had happened prior to that day, nor would they happen for the remainder of that season. After a few other guys unsuccessfully challenging positions, the kid I had already beaten wanted a second chance, but the coaches were having none of it. They said he'd have to wait until the next practice, but I wanted it settled once and for all - "so lets go!". And go at it we did. I'll have to give him some credit as he came off harder the second time than the first with the coaches having to call it early to restart, as we both had lost our footing over the prescribed area - call it a draw - maybe. More determined, I was set on making this convincing and told them we're settling it now, regardless of me owning that spot at the moment. That third and last round was overly convincing. Let just say there wasn't going to be any doubt -and there never was. But now I was the guy at that spot and had to carry my weight, doing my part without excuse. Always knowing what my weakness would be against other players, I had to learn to use my strengths as an advantage - if I had any any strength to use. The one strength I know I always had was not only my teammates, but our loyal classmates. I've written about the time we played a rare Saturday game. Tammy and her crew were atop the summit at Sardine Canyon, on the side of the highway when our team bus flew by on the way to Logan. They made us feel like Vikings off to pillage the empire of unknown lands. Not long after that (maybe a couple weeks), we had some unofficial activity down at this little dumpy burger joint by the O-river. I remember it being dark and cold - maybe raining outside. I think it was Iron Horse week. Another of several games we should have clearly won that year - but that's another story for another day. I don't remember any underclassmen there, just our class. I'm sure they were there, but they didn't blend into our fabric - our Tartan Plaid as it were. I could list off the names, but could never adequately describe the almost magic atmosphere. What was clear - we were about to disembark and go on to something/somewhere else in our lives. We all knew the innocence had been spent and it was time to go - wherever "go" was to be. It wouldn't be for many years, like decades, before I would put that evening into context and understand what we had and where it was all going.

The last of the glass and sunny images for a while......

The tribute

It is said a soldier can never return to his home, or his country. I've come to understand that it isn't the place which has changed as much as it is the soldier. After you have experienced the death and destruction that is war, you never see things the same again. That is the same with life and going home. We all long for the comfort of what we may have known to be our safety and comfort of our youth - for those that were fortunate to have such a thing. Others were never that lucky, but we sure the hell were - at least I was. To that end, I pay tribute to my brothers and sisters that shaped my life in those special and important years. Sure, I may have been the only one to have been thrown out into a mudpuddle, stark-ass naked in front of what seemed to be the entire student body, but it all made me somehow a better person anyway. We all had our short comings and our insecurities, but we were still a part of something bigger than any one of us alone. The fabric of that particular Tartan Plaid is that which we all wear somehow -whether we know it or not. I know there are a few that will have nothing to do with any of "it" anymore, but I guess that is understandable as well. I mean, we were kind of unremarkable, but so remarkable at the same time. Stop to look at it for what it was, and what it really is anyway.

So.....why is it that I've come to this point? A couple weeks ago I got out the old year books to see what if anything Reed may have written back in the day. You know, the meaningless stuff we mostly have forgotten - mostly. Our sophomore year I had something written in my yearbook I never have forgotten. This particular girl who was a remarkable athlete and a totally awesome person (in my humble opinion), wrote what sunk in hard; "You are the laziest, but funniest person I know...". I have never forgotten that insignificant post. I also will never forget what I wrote in a friends yearbook our senior year, knowing the girl I was "smitten by" would read it, as I knew she would have access to his yearbook at some point. It was rank and disgusting comment if only to make an impression - that to this very day I don't know why I'd do such a thing, other than it was truly the path I was on for some reason. Whether the words we read or write, they have meaning and gravity. I can never go back and I don't think I want to. Mile Post 44 carries a lot of meaning, but going home isn't always what we think it will be when we actually get there. Maybe there is no going home.....

Remembering '66

One of my older sisters graduated fifteen years before us - from the truly MIGHTY BL. That class lost five of their clan to the bullshit we know as Vietnam. No other class from our school has ever had anything even close. Put it in perspective. She made it a point to find all five of them on the "WALL" when she visited DC many years ago - because they are of her particular Tartan Plaid. That was back in the day when the old "BL" was on the mountain at the top of Douglas Street - not over where it is now , where the "W" used to be. There was pride in being a Scot/Lass. Make no mistake, pride in your Tartan Plaid is real. 

Here's to those of my Tartan Plaid

Like it or not, we are all woven into our own fabric of Tartan Plaid. Wear it with a sense of pride. Nobody else can say the same. Remember those who are no longer with us and those that shook us all - somehow. Pass it along. The world needs us now...

Click here for "Baba O'Riley" - The Who

Pulling for Reed! Ride because you can....Make it hurt!