My Giant

Dad, clowning with brothers Milton and Harold

That's him in the middle, the big guy, sporting jazzy white bucks, bell-bottom slacks, and waves of jet-black hair that drove girls crazy back in the day. 

Knock Knock Knockin' on Heaven's Gate

"We were young and strong and ridin' against the wind"

Leon's Moving On

Finally reunited with our Texas transplant pal, Marathon Man (aka Leonard, Leon, Slim-ass) for a long bike ride yesterday. Bobbie tagged along as far as Ridgway, then had to turn back in order to make a dental appointment. Just as well, Leon and I had a grudge match to settle that she wanted no part of.

Pastel painting update... a cynic's foray into unfamiliar mediums of expression

The view of Pleasant Valley and Mount Sneffels from Pastelist Barb's studio window is both inspiring and breathtaking.

Another Go At Twin Peaks...

No matter how many times one fails over the course of a lifetime, they are never a failure until they quit trying.

Pretty Rocks

This morning I thumbed through some "selected locales" on my iPhone's weather app, places we frequent or have an interest in. I was a little shocked by the forecasted highs when I landed on "Phoenix:" Friday: 115—Saturday, 118—Sunday, 117—Monday, 113. And it's only the second day in June. I can't imagine working or playing outside when it's that hot, yet a good percentage of retirees live there year round. Why? 

True Grit on the trail to Alpine Overlook

Wouldn't you know, the morning after biking to Yankee Boy Basin, son Caleb and future dotter-in-law Kelli show up and want to go on an adventure-hike. I woke up feeling like I'd been hit-and-runover by an 18 wheeler, but, of course, replied, "Sure, why not." I popped a Tramadol, did a quick update of my Last Will and Testament, and, not that it we could trust it, checked the forecast. It's uncanny. Just when a guy could use a little bad weather, it's nowhere to be found. No excuses, we set off, me bringing up the rear.