A "Fire and Rain" Morning

Humans love to make plans and lists. They give our live's a sense of direction and accomplishment... and the gods get a good laugh.

"Of Mice and Men"

Bobbie arrived in camp yesterday, just in time for rain, wind, clouds, and a bloody escalating war with (insert theater organ music here) MICE. Given the multiple "fronts," I wouldn't be surprised nor blame her if she packed up and headed back to Lovely Ouray's winter storm warnings. Thus, wind and mice wars made for a long, sleep-deprived night, to say the least.

It went something like this:

TMI, and More Fun With Dick and Jane... Sometimes Without Jane

As my "sabbatical" from real life spirals downward, along with the weather (sigh), let me tell you something: Spring neither comes nor goes softly in the wild west. Rather, it roars like a lion on meth and rarely sleeps. And for all the stock one puts in the symbolic hoax of Spring's New Beginnings, Renewal, Warmth, Hope, and Dreams of Girls in sundresses twirling to music in grassy parks, the reality is quite the opposite. Oh Spring you bitch... nothing but a fickle, frigid, tease disguised as March and April. Confined to my "Box" as it rocks and shudders on a windy perch, I might as well throw up a post because all "flights of fancy" have been grounded except for the ones in my mind...

Day 36

It's hard to believe I've been in Kamp Klondike 36 days. But then again, why leave? 

Put A Lid On It

I've only "cleaned" The Snake once in some 5 or 6 attempts. It's steeper and tighter than it appears, with drop-offs on all sides. It never fails to psych me out... including the time I made it through without a single "dab." In fact, just knowing it's coming makes me uneasy. I end up plotting new ways to attack it, which diverts attention away from the "traps" at hand. Ah, another reason to "live in the moment," I suppose.

Stomping Grounds, There Must Have Been A Party Goin' On

As you recall from the previous post, Bobbie and I were off in search of "ruins" and Dinosaur tracks. Having found respectable ruins we ventured on, running the North Klondike Ridge southward until ultimately joining a most primo section of the magnificent Alaska single-track bike trail. Having biked the "Alaska" a few days ago, I remembered an offshoot "hiker's only" trail with an arrow and sign, "To Dinosaur Stomping Grounds." Hopefully more than indistinct depressions filled with dried mud.

Venturing off-trail in search of "Sara," come hissy rattlesnake or Dinosaur treas-ahaaa

Every other day in the Klondike Camp is reserved for hiking. This is necessary in order to give our bottoms a break from ever-so-slender bike saddles, which nowadays are more invasive than a wretched colonoscopy. 

In The News: Thorn-Bush Attacks Biker, Trump to "Nuke" North Korea...

Or was it the other way around? It could take some time for the authorities to sort out who attacked whom, but in the meantime both Bush and Biker are said to be resting comfortably.

Doin' the Bump and Grind

After being pinned mostly indoors by the weather gods for a couple of days... ok, four days... I was in dire need of some mental and physical therapy. When Marky doesn't get his "medicine," life just seems to fall apart. Fortunately Bobbie was home in Lovely Ouray, and thus was not present to witness the breakdown.