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