A Little Bit of Jesus Christ, and A Whole Lot of Jack Daniels

Storm clouds and Flash Flood warnings have lifted, and we are treated to a snowcapped mountain surround out the amphitheater-facing Imax Window this morning. Old Man Winter has sounded the first of three foreboding gongs... a sonic pall intended to frighten Ms Autumn on down the road, shake "flowers" from limbs of quaking aspen, and break the mental death-grip Crevice dwelling mountain folk have on their "Endless Indian Summer" fantasy. 

Crystal Blue Persuasion, Yellow Submarine, and Lavender Mountain, and Why God Made RVs

On yet another fine fall day we found ourselves on the shores of Crystal Lake, a mere twenty minute scoot up Red Mountain from Lovely Ouray. I was persuaded to take photo-graphic advantage of Crystal's warm, calm, reflective mood; it won't be long till she's frozen over… frigid as a popsicle in a deepfreeze. I hope to be immersed in Utah's Red Rock country by then, taking thermal advantage of places where Old Man Winter's arrival is generally postponed till the holidays… the way it should be in a perfect world. But it isn't a "perfect world," is it? Nor is it always fair. And that, my dear friends, is why God made RVs—to wander comfortably around in the desert, looking for the Promised Land. Poor old Moses and his Israelites… living in makeshift tents, no port-a-potties or holding tanks, no solar power or generators; surly they hold a graveyard grudge.  

“Autumn… a second spring, when every leaf's a flower”

What can I say, it was simply a perfect day in the mountains. An after sex-like glow radiated undercover warmth like a '70's mood ring, and all was right and well in the two worlds that matter—the Here, and the Now.

"What About Bob?"

Even with Lovely Ouray's temps in the 70's, I'm here to tell you that unobstructed high altitude late-September sun can be brutally hot. It's almost like an infra-red kind of heat, one that cooks you from the inside out. So there I was, feeling like the flammable focal point under a magnifying glass, sweating out placements of the few remaining shingles on the roof of one of two new storage sheds Bobbie and I had just constructed—something to house our mountain bikes and other "stuff" that seems to multiply faster than wives and children at a polygamist commune, and up strolls "What-About-Bob." Bob's friendly and outgoing, yet somewhat of a pathetically forlorn character not unlike the one Bill Murray played in the movie… a lovable, offbeat, and entertaining kind of guy, but one who'd move into your spare bedroom in a heartbeat if you didn't watch out.

Fall Test Run For Goldie…Red Mountain, Silverton, and A Lake Camp At Little Molas

Short on time for words today… and short on internet speed here in Silverton, Colorado. We're going hiking so we'll catch up later. Here's a few thousand words in pictures to hold you over.
Peace Out,
Mark and Bobbie

Days Of Waning Light and Warmth, Looking for Postcards Outside the Turnstiled Confines Of Our National Treasures

Gee, you would think I burned the flag or something. I thought that most readers would understand and forgive my overstated nature by now—that when I "pee" on something it is to be taken with a shaker of salt. Be it satire, sarcasm, and/or my tongue-in-cheek attempts at comedic drivel, it all relies on some elemental basis in fact in order for it to work. To exaggerate is human, if you don't believe take a look at your resume. We laugh at cartoons because they are an exaggeration of ourselves, and sometimes, it's not a giant leap.

"If You Want To Get To Heaven, You Got To (Risk) A Little Hell"

Maybe I'm finally getting through to him—or maybe there are other communal forces at work. Whatever the cause, I like the results. Lately, you see, I've waxed poetic from my email pulpit about the diverse and surreal Geology and Topography surrounding—as in, outside of—Capital Reef National Park. These sermons were an attempt to cajole the CEO of National Park Haters Anonymous into showing up despite it's proximity to the "No Go" zone. It appears my pal has taken the hook.

Where Have All The Flowers Gone...

A seasonal transition is underway. Bobbie wanders flowerless tundra, nipped yellow by frost and a settling sun. It was a lush alpine season, though, besotted by slow moving monsoons. We alternately gave thanks and cursed the weather gods, but in the end are grateful for every drop of rain. To everything a season, be it flora, fauna, or Life itself. 

Looking Back, Moving Forward: "This little light is mine, I'm gonna to let it shine"

Disclaimer: If it's intellectual enlightenment you seek, you're at the wrong website. What you will find here are photos and opinions…some pretty, some pretty ugly…like the photographer/author. I disclaim to be an authority on anything except my own experience, lot's of failures, a few successes, and a couple of regrets…all of which I share with you in hopes that one person's experience might serve as a candle to light a path for others. Not so much that you should in any way follow my footsteps, more that you might learn from my mistakes. 

Sustaining RV Lust: The Open Road, A Happy Hearth, and Me—The Ultimate Ménage à trois

Another Monsoonal deluge here in soon to be Lake Lovely Ouray (sigh). Between Ms Monsoon's tantrums, Bobbie and I have been busy constructing two four by eight storage sheds that attach to the rear and side of the Imax Mine Shack. Seems our garage is maxed out and Bobbie's new Trek and my old 29'er needed a place to park out of the weather. But there will be no construction going on today in this ducky weather, so here's a potentially controversial post for BCB readers to chew on. Fasten your seat belts, folks, and you might want to cross your legs so as to avoid nasty "knee-jerk" reactions :)

Sweet Bliss

August, August…parting is such sweet bliss. Having babysat The Skol Fine Art Gallery  for the better part of Lovely Ouray's short, but oh-so-sweet summer, and this while RV friends are cavorting about North America like a bunch of newborn colts, I become mindful of the irony of my last day of work falling on Labor Day.