Spectator Versus Participant

OMG, it's official... I'm a Geezer. I went to Motown to apply for Social Security this week. It was yet another in what is becoming a mini-series of Govie Gone Wrong soap operas. I have a Summertime Rant on the tip of my tongue, but don't worry, I'm not going "there," especially since I just got back from "there" last week.

A Hike-able Bike-able Segment Of The Colorado Trail

What a wretched injustice summer's brevity is in the Rocky Mountains. Didn't snow only just come off? Wasn't it just yesterday that it was June, and summer laid out before us like a Forth of July picnic? Albeit reluctantly, temp friendly tropical monsoons are down to dribbles and spurts. September's is a transitional time for weather systems, as they begin to shift from south to north... which begins to usher cooler Alaskan and North Pacific air into higher elevations. Mornings become crisp as a Washington apple, clear as Rocky Mountain spring water. And it smells clean, like laundry fresh off mom's clothesline. 

"I Can Feel It Coming In The Air Tonight... Oh Lord"

There was a change in the air last night. I woke up this morn to find Ms Autumn gifting Lovely Ouray with a Free Sample of what's to come. Yes, Fall is in the cool, calm, damp air today. As if on babies' breath, near motionless clouds... burdened with tropical moisture... occupy all but the floor of our Crevice. They cling to mountainsides like bridal veils... teasing us with ambiguous views of tree-tips, peaks, and rocky bluffs. 

True Grit... Backroad Bike Rides To Ridgway and Beyond

Sidewalks remain of the boarded kind in Lovely Ouray's Sister City, Ridgway, as do storefronts. It lends a rustic look that makes you feel like your are stepping back in time a few decades. The rundown western chic made Ridgway a natural choice for Towny scenes in the 1969 movie True Grit. Remember, it stared The Duke, as Rooster Cogburn... an aging cowboy whose life gets turned inside out by a young Kim Darby (whatever happened to her?). True Grit garnered John Wayne his only Academy Award. Hard to believe.

Revelations... The Last Days Are At Hand

I have "the towel" in hand... ready, anxious, even, to throw it in. Hear ye, "The last days are at hand!"

Sympathy For The Devil, A Rare Summertime Rant

It shouldn't be such an ordeal to get a drivers license renewed. I follow Bobbies instructions to a tee to avoid hassles... go in the middle of the week, in the middle of the day, after lunch hour. I take a utility bill as proof of address because a "P. O. Box is not acceptable." Gee, good thing I'm not a full-time RV'er with just a P.O. Box. Bobbie sailed right through her renewal process a few weeks ago, out in minutes. But I guess Jesus loves her more than me. How long must one pay for teenage sins, anyway? 

The Rain, The Park, and Other Things

It has been a summer of rain, excluding June, that is, if you happen to count June as a "summer month," which we never do because it can still snow here in Lovely Ouray, in June... and technically, most of June falls in spring anyway (Ok smarty pants English Majors, try to diagram that sentence).

Trains, Planes and Automobiles

That could be me in the above photo if I would have stuck to my first career choice. Of course I was only seven when I thought being a locomotive engineer would be a cool job. But a couple of years go by and, well, you know, a guy grows up. One warm winter afternoon in 1959 dad parked at the end of a runway near Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix. In those innocent days you could do such things. It was cheap entertainment, and quite thrilling, to watch passenger jets take off into a fiery western sunset. It became a favorite pastime for dad and I, and it spawned second thoughts about my first career choice of becoming a train driver.

"Ice Ice Baby"

Presenting Mr Vanilla Ice himself, Marathon Man Leonard, in "Ice Ice Baby."

A Rendezvous With Ice Lake, and Hip, Hip, Hip, Hooray For Kathy

The Road To Ice Lake.

The plan was to gradually add distance and elevation as our RV hiking group became acclimated, saving the best hike for last. But "plans" are like RV curse words to footloose vagabonds; "Here today, gone tomorrow." Dang, I ended up saving the best eye candy a little bit too long. Scamps, and Jim and Gayle departed The Crevice a few days ago, along with Debbie and Wonder Dog Elliot. John Q is long gone, now hanging near Crested Butte and dreading the long flatland drive home to Indiana. I guess the sweetest hike will have to wait till next year for you guys. But not for us.