"We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us." C. Bukowski
NOTE: Open post and then Single Click On first Post Photo to view an album in a more detailed, larger format...
Thursday, April 27, 2017
Recall that riding time in "Klondike" was cut short this year...thanks to a routine drug prescription that couldn't free itself from jaws of ineptitude wrapped in 47 rolls of Bureaucratic "Red Tape." We are home in Lovely Ouray as I write this update, watching it snow, and with much to share. The prescription debacle is resolved, at least till then next time I need to refill it...now 60 days and counting. I've managed only a single bike ride since Klondike (sniff), a long, steep, grunt up Camp Bird Road to its namesake mine.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Slipping from winter into summer in Lovely Ouray is like slipping from your starched Sunday best into a ratty old pair of "sweats. It is our season of comfort, a time to pack away itchy wool and sticky Gore-Tex till October, and embrace the soft caress of loose-fit cotton. In most places, "Spring" means planting flowers and seeding gardens in a pair of shorts. Spring around here means 8 more weeks of winter.
Saturday, April 8, 2017
"I cannot cause light...the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam." Annie Dillard
Monday, April 3, 2017
Finally, after wailing and gnashing of teeth, down to two pills, I get an automated call from Wally World. My prescription is ready for pick up... 1,200 bucks before co-pay...600 bucks after. It could be worse...
Sunday, April 2, 2017
This is my surreal front yard on a good day, which, unfortunately, today is not. So I hunker down in Western Utah's Camp Fairytale whilst a gale wind shudders Goldie's aluminum skin and rattles her Imax "sliders," now mucked by a recipe of one part spits of rain, two parts atomized red dirt.