Treading Lightly on Red Dragon's Back

 From exceptional minds comes wisdom so simple and lucid in its expression that even I can grasp. Here's a few reminders for those whose priorities need adjustment:  "Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. Khalil Gibran, and, "In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play," Friedrich Nietzsche,  and my favorite, “Play is the highest form of research" Albert Einstein.

Ice Ice Baby...

It was a fast and furious weekend that ended all too soon. Caleb and Kelli just departed for home and Bobbie just left for a day of work at Mountain Fever. Other than the rhythmic groan of an overpacked dishwasher, I am left alone in the post-party vacuum of a too quiet house.

Insult to Injury...A Bonus Post

And the Weather God has spoken. Rumors of Old Man Winter's death are greatly exaggerated...

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

It wasn't my intention to "go dark" at Brother Dan's dinner table. But you know how it is, one thing (beer) leads to another (beer) and before I know it there's a pile of "guts" on the Lazy Susan centerpiece, and they look a lot like mine.

Rekindling The Bro-mance

Well now, before setting the BCB's sail for Toledo, let me take a sec to mention that Spirit Airlines is in the headlines again. Funny how when you don't pay or treat your employees worth a damn they don't bother to show up sometimes...and riots break out in airports. It's about time people. Rise up! Reward abuse, deceit, and uncaring corporate behavior by taking your business and money elsewhere, and start by NEVER FLYING Spirit Airlines AGAIN! Now on to more pleasant topics, a trip to Toledo to see kinfolk.

Spirit Airlines: The Art of "Fee-Mongering"

Scammed, swindled, schemed, stung...snookered, shafted, snowed, slighted, spoofed...suckered...shell-gamed, and slick-willyed; that's how we felt after flying Spirit Airlines. 

Devil's Advocate

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.