The Call of the Wild

A few years ago, my wife and I took our two children to a state park about 20 miles from our home, more specifically, Palo Duro Canyon State Park, home to the 2nd largest canyon in the United States of America. We packed a picnic lunch, took our bikes and kid trailer so I could haul the two of them around on the road so they could take in the view, and we set out to visit the Grand Canyon of Texas!

Strangely, I have a feeling that that particular day sparked a change in me that has taken hold and began to grow magnificent roots within me. I remember first thinking and then speaking aloud to Shannon, “I bet the mountain bike trails are really fun out here.” Thus began the writing of grand history.

I have lived within and hour and a half drive of this canyon for all of my life. From the age of 1 to 28, I can only remember visiting this canyon approximately 6 times. There’s the possibility of more, but I could not recall them. These trips consisted mostly of attending the play Texas (which is grand in itself and is a must see) or visiting my wife, which at the time was my fiancé, who was working as a hostess at the amphitheater, which is where the play Texas is performed.
Between the ages of 28 to 32, I have probably made the trek to the canyon at least 25 times. With purposes ranging from mountain biking with friends and family and for causes, taking the kids on more picnic hikes but off of the road and back into side canyons and caves, to hiking with a good friend on a brisk if not devilishly cold New Years Day hike, that turned out to be an absolutely spectacular morning.

In between these retreats into the natural -wonder of my own backyard, I have sought out more of nature’s beauty within these United States. I visited the Grand Canyon, and longed to hike down to the mighty Colorado River that has carved out this most spectacular master piece over the ages. I’ve seen Sedona in all of its red rock wonder, along with Oak Creek Canyon. Gazed upon the vast wonder of the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest, and have taken my family to the subterranean wonder of the Carlsbad Caverns. I’ve also began to seek out and educate myself on backpacking and rock climbing. I’ve amassed such knowledge through Google Earth, Wikipedia, and various books on Moab, The Great Gallery, Horseshoe Canyon, Rainbow Bridge National Monument, Antelope Canyon, The Wave, Zion National Park, Havasu Falls, Bright Angel Trail, and The Robber’s Roost area, that one may mistake me for a transplant from the Arizona/Utah border.

All of this has led to a fiery yearning for the great outdoors. I dream of slinging a pack over my shoulder and diving off of the grid into the wild, to gain solitude and silence in an attempt to clear my mind. I want to share with my wife and children strange new landscapes and magnificent wilderness. To have my children stand with jaws agape when they see all of the stars in the night sky, with that being the only source of light around for miles like my sister and I did standing in a clearing in the mountains of Colorado. To see the expression of fear and excitement the first time they come running into camp shouting of the bear, deer, skunk or other wildlife they caught glimpse of while having some adventure. I want them to welcome the night and prepare for slumber under the light of the moon and a Coleman lantern, and nothing else. But perhaps most importantly, for them to know that there is a world of majestic wonder for them to take in far away from their own. A place free of hustle and bustle where they can go to recharge, focus, and meditate, and realize that there is so much more to behold past your own back door. For my children to be able to navigate it and trust it and view it as a refuge, not a large scary world that is barren and hazardous.

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings: Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine into flowers, the winds will blow their freshness into you, and the storms, their energy-and cares will drop off like autumn leaves.” -John Muir

Lessons to be Learned

For most of the past week my family and I have been enjoying the Games of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. I hope most of you have been taking in the amazing feats of the Worlds athletes as well. The things, they have accomplished, the sacrifices that that have made, the injuries, disappointments, and set backs that they have endured carry the power to inspire all of us, and look them with pride and admiration.

The stories behind their lives gives us a glimpse at what they’ve been through to get to where they are, and where they are going, and can make us cheer for them, regardless of who they are, where they are from, and what language, cultural, or religious barriers separate us.

Amazingly, during a few motivating and inspiring weeks during the summer and winter, and spanned over a couple of years, we are able to ignore this, and cheer for the athletes we watch as just that, athletes, human beings that have trained and pushed themselves beyond all expectations but their own. Molded and shaped themselves like craftsmen, to keep the body from doing what it physically wants to do, to where it will do what their minds command it to do.

During these weeks, the world is capable of embracing everyone as a person, seeing only their focus, emotion, triumph, or failure. Watching on either with a rush of adrenaline, screaming and cheering, smiling and laughing at their victory, be it personal or competitive, or feel saddened, sympathetic, and hurt along with them during their disappointments, sometimes to the point of tears, because we wanted them so badly to succeed.

Yet sadly in many cases, once the flames of world unity have been extinguished from the Olympic games, so too have they been extinguished from the hearts and minds of the world. People tend to go back to their close-minded ways. Seeing people only for what is presented in front of them. Not caring to ponder the heart wrenching or awe inspiring prospective piece that is their lives, where they have come from, what they’ve endured, what they are currently going through.

I’m not claiming that I’m impervious to prejudices and preconceived opinions about people. Just a human being, trying to learn, trying to capture light bulbs, and keep them glowing, along with the flame of world unity. That flame will flicker, it will get blown from the winds of prejudice, racism, and intolerance of others, but may it never die out. Help me guard the flame, and keep it blazing for all to see, for all to feel its warmth, and bask in it’s unifying glow.

Jungles, Treasure, and D.P.D.

I have the honor of shuttling my son to day care every morning during the school year. Some mornings are fairly uneventful; we drive in silence listening to the radio while he looks out the window, sometimes covering his eyes because “The sun is hot on his eyes.” Other mornings he is a ball of fire playing with the toys he bring along or me. At times I amass quite of collection of toys ranging from Optimus Prime to Hot Wheels cars. Most of the time he is content flying them around or racing them along his leg or the door. Today was an interesting morning, as I was privy to a Hollywood-esque dialogue between an Imperial Storm Trooper and Fuzzy Turtle. Here is the transcript, and I kid you not, this was all from him.

Storm Trooper: Ok, we have to go into that jungle to get the treasure…and the cube.
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok
Storm Trooper: But, we have to be careful.
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok
Storm Trooper: But, once we get into the jungle we have to be careful.
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok, we’ll be careful.
Storm Trooper: Ok
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok
Storm Trooper: Ok, so while we’re in there, we’ll get the cube, and look for the Treasure Mint, they’re good.
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok
Storm Trooper: But, we have to be careful, because it’s dangerous.
Fuzzy Turtle: Dangerous? Ok.
Storm Trooper: Yes, dangerous, but, there is Danger Pant Dinosaur in that jungle, and he will eat you.
Fuzzy Turtle: I don’t like Danger Pant Dinosaur, he’s scares me.
Storm Trooper: I know, and he will eat you up, and your Treasure Mint too.
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok
Storm Trooper: Ok, so let’s go get the cube, and the Treasure Mints, and then we’ll be good.
Fuzzy Turtle: Ok

It trailed off into a quiet secretive series of “psssts” and “sssssrrrrsss” from there as Storm Trooper and Fuzzy Turtle apparently plotted the best tactical way to enter the jungle, secure the treasure, cube, and Treasure Mints, and avoid, trick, or dispatch Danger Pant Dinosaur.
Storm Trooper and Fuzzy Turtle are now tucked neatly into Ethan’s car seat waiting for round two of the act, and keeping a sharp eye out for D.P.D.

A Beast Awaits

A beast has infiltrated my house. He’s been here for about a week now, and has the ability to shape shift. He’s taken different forms over the last week, and has beaten me to a pulp.

His attacks vary in degree. Sometimes he creeps up on me subtly, sometimes a full frontal guerilla style attack that leaves me huddled in the kitchen floor short of breath and crying, desperately trying to find my happy place. As I lay there, weeping, I clutch tightly to the only weapon I can find to defeat the beast, a shiny tined fork.

I speak of The Birthday Cake Monster. A vicious combatant capable of slaying the most iron willed men and women amongst the human race. His forms this week have varied. From a quaint, unassuming white cake with pretty multi-colored butter cream icing, to a massive, hulking heavy multi-layered German Chocolate Cake. Its latest incarnation is in the form of a Lemon Cake dripping with lemon frosting, and has even appeared as delicious Valentine’s sugar cookies. A devilish master of disguise is he.

He’s called to me this week as I sit, studying on the couch. Perched like a gothic gargoyle on top of the refrigerator, he taunts me, calling me names, telling me how sissy I look sitting there sipping my water. Telling me a real man would be elbow deep in a slab of baker’s dreams with crumbs falling from the mouth. I turn, giving the Birthday Cake Monster a nervous eye, trying to keep focused on the task at hand, but he’s too strong. He pummels me with icing fist, and moist cake layered roundhouse kicks with Chuck Norris like lethal precision. The beatings are quick and precise, and end just as quickly as they began. The beast tosses me back to the couch in a pathetic heap of sobbing shattered will. I lick my wounds and picture myself looking similar to Professor Klump from “The Nutty Professor” attempting to drink a mason jar full of M&M’s. I try and gather myself and regain my will power.

But there will be another battle, another fight. The Demon will call to me, and I will engage with fiery passion. Raising my fork and give a mighty yawp, I will run to the kitchen eager to dispatch my enemy with the gnashing of teeth, the clattering of metal fork weaponry and ceramic plate shield.

For defeat is sweet. Oh wait….that should be the other way around. Oh well. It’s still pretty sweet.

The Circle of Life

Tis true, on this date thirty two years ago, I came into the world. A bouncing baby boy, that has had a life full of bounces both fun, and some not so fun. (Car induced bounces are so not fun!)



Strangely, one can reflect back on their lives in an attempt to analyze where they have been, where they are, and where they are going. One can find the things they love to do, things they used to love to do, and things they would like to do.



My analysis has found an interesting "Circle of Life" type of twist and where I am and where I am going, at least presently.



During my time on Planet Earth, I have enjoyed several different types of sports. Some I was excellent at, and some not so much. I've played soccer as a little kid (though Dad would argue that it was nothing more the Herd Ball), I've attempted Football, loved Baseball, had some success as a Golfer, and Paintball. One thing I did all of the time but never really considered it a sport was cycling. Now all children ride bikes and have fun. But when I rode a bike, it was special. I was fast, I could jump anything, and somethings I jumped, I probably shouldn't have. "If Mom knew about the Half Pipe down the street, I'd probably still be grounded." Strangely, withing the last 3 years, cycling has come full circle. Each year over the past 3 years, I've bought a new bike. First, one that helped me shed nearly 70 pounds, next a Mountain Bike that I have ripped up all kinds of trails on, and a road bike that is helping keep of the 70 pounds and is giving me a competitive itch. I raced my first bike race this last November during a Mountain Bike Marathon event placing 4th out of 32 in my category. It's sport now, baby.



Also, I've enjoyed different artistic experiences during life. I gained an appreciation for music during elementary school. Sang in choir from middle school into college. Began to play guitar during high school and became very good at it. Started playing drums in a Jazz band during college. Began to enjoy photography. Have been in multiple bands in the last 8 years playing both drums and guitar. Over the last couple of years though, the music took a dive, I became frustrated and vanquished all but my two guitars and hardly ever played those. Now within the last two weeks, I have been invited to play guitar at a dinner party with a long time friend, and have also been asked to play Bass guitar in his long time band.



I have found it strange that after 32 years, and the changes that I have been through, that I have come back to to two things in life that I dearly loved as a child and teen. Cycling has become an important part of my life now, and music, as much as I've tried to squash it, still re-surfaces, even stronger that before.



I suppose one can change, but they can never really change.



P.S. Thank you to all that have donated part of you to make me the whole that I am today. Mom, Dad, Momo, Popo, Shannon, Madison, Ethan, Courtney, Rob, Opa, Oma, Grandpa Kay, Chase, Shelly, Jeff, and whoever they got the cadaver tissue for my knee from! I love all of you and would be lost without such awesome friends and family.

Light Bulbs

Human beings, being creatures of habit, have the ability to meticulously set themselves into a routine that can allow them to virtually go through their day without thinking or realizing what they are doing. Once these motions have been set and rehearsed over and over, people have the ability to do certain things, giving them little or no attention, and focus on something else completely.

Take your morning routine for example. How hard do you think about your shower, brushing your teeth, combing your hair, pouring a drink, what you are going to eat.

How about your morning commute? How often have you driven to work and once there thought "I don't remember anything about my drive this morning."

Depending on your particular job, the same can happen there. You can also have a routine for when you get home from work until you go to bed.

The proverbial Human Robot, set into action by the chiming alarm clock and set to shut down once the Solar Energy source has left the sky.

I'm not saying that these routines are bad, or misplaced, just that without properly identifying signs, they can be dangerous.

These routines allow us to focus extra energy to things that need special attention. Once well rehearsed, they can be sped up or slowed depending on if an emergency arises, or if somehow in our busy lives we find extra time.

But live by these routines to long without shaking them down and checking them for efficiency, and they can become ruts. Mind muddying ruts that can project the feeling of the "Hamster Wheel". So one needs to look for light bulbs.

The type of light bulbs that shine brightly over ones head in the instant that they realize "Hey, I got it, that makes sense, I can use that." Those type of moments happen everyday, it's up to the person to realize the light bulb moment and be willing to say to themselves, "I've been doing this wrong, that makes sense, and I need to change it." Looking for light bulbs is not enough. Once you find it, you need to grab it, plug it in and nurture it. Keep it burning with the intensity that was there when you found it.

With out care, it will burn out, dimming the corridor of the change that was being walked, leaving you lost, only to fall back to the routine, that will momentarily feel safe and familiar, but will soon become the dark rut again.

Ode to the 'Baru

This was written for my Subaru Outback 2.5i., and Subaru owners of all walks. Enjoy.

To those that do not know you, you appear small, weak, and strange. Unassuming in your shiny, innocent white coat, and neo-sheek Griswold family station wagon post Gastric Bypass procedure design. They mock you for not being a "man's car".

They do not know you.

Sitting at the red light with the powder crunched beneath your tires and the foggy exhaust rolling from behind you they laugh. "He's gonna get that thing stuck." "He'll be asking me to pull him out in about a quarter mile or so."

They do not know you.

"That thing's gonna break like a kids armless Spiderman rolling through this snow!"

They do not know you.
But I know you. I know you very well.

While you enjoy chauffeuring my children, my wife, my pets, and my bikes around with the utmost sense of duty and responsibility, you long for an alternate life.
While you enjoy long drives to distant places for our relaxation and enjoyment, you long for an alternate life.

You have heard tale of your brothers, sisters, cousins, and ancestors, carrying no cargo, shuffling no children. These legends that you have heard tale of, scream over dirt, mud, or snow, in blinding feats of speed and cornering, focused only on "get there as quick as you can". Oh to have but a taste of that life would surely tide you over, satisfy that lusty itch for which you were not created.

I know you, and I will indulge you.

With children absent from your back seats, and wife away, we will play, we will live. We will find an open pasture of highway filled with snow and slush absent of assuming villains, and the clique's of "popular transportation sheeple", and we will live.

Like Superman from the phone booth, or Batman from the cave, we will hurl ourselves into this alternate life, we will fly, we will corner, we will find the mud and the grime. We will indulge our child like fantasy for the day. We will dine on slush and snow, mud and muck until our stomach's become distended from adrenaline and joy!

And once we have had our fill, we will quietly roll ourselves back to the norm. We will again become Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne. The mild mannered 'Baru. Toting kids, getting the groceries, taking the Fam on the cheesy vacation.

For we know, and because we know, we are happy.