I have always suspected that my wife, Marlene, is part Italian. And, as it turns out, she is a mountain girl that likes apples. Now it all makes sense in this cool ad.
A Mountain Too Close
After looking at Mount Aeneas across the lake for 17 years, we finally hiked it. It might have been the name of the trailhead (Camp Misery) that made us hold off so long.
Life’s A Beach
I have learned that in life
few endeavors are more heartening for the sole
than sunrise beach walking.
It is not difficult
nor is it expensive.
Just get your ass out of bed early,
grab a pair of earphones with good music,
find a hardpack sandy beach that goes on forever,
and put one foot in front of the other.
You will thank yourself afterwards.
Garistotle (aka Beachcomber Gar)
Canoeing Days
I read a gratifying Facebook post from my son recently. It reminded me of a favorite, though apocryphal, Mark Twain quote:
When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.
Here Is My Son’s Facebook Post:
Getting ready to make my return to the BWCA after a 25+ year “break” from each other. As I was building the canoe carrier, sifting through old maps of trips my dad and I took when I was younger and gathering the necessities needed for an ultralight trip into the wilderness, I began to reflect on my previous experiences up there.
My brain keeps bringing up childhood memories of crystal clear lakes, endless portage’s, torrential downpours, flooded tents in violent thunderstorms, unexpected snow squalls, cold nights and even colder mornings, Taking an unexpected swim thanks to leather pant wielding relatives, paddling until my arms were spaghetti and finally the victory trip to McDonalds on the way home when it was all over!
Looking at those old maps of my childhood and seeing the notes from trips past such as “great camp” and “death march” on one of the portage’s, I realized that my dad and I did a lot of really cool things and I just was too young to fully appreciate it. This time I make my return with my family almost 30 years later and the one thing I am going to miss the most is sharing the experience one more time with my dad…. but those old maps are going to make that trip one more time.
Signage
Marlene was enjoying pointing out the distant bison to the grand-kids … that is until she read the signage.
Background: she does not like even being in the same room as a “photograph” of a garter snake.
Pulitzer-Smulitzer
My modest literary contribution, Searching for Alpha Centauri: A Boyhood Memoir, made a nice comeback this month. It became an Amazon Best Seller by climbing to #2 in its category—just behind Timothy Egan’s latest book. Yeah, the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award winning Timothy Egan.
That’s what I’m talking about!
Okay, that might not impress you. I mean its second place after all. As Dale Earnhardt once so callously stated, “second place is just the first place loser.”
Ouch!
So maybe it’s not a coup, but my book did come in three spots ahead of Weird Al Yankovic’s biography.
Weird Al #5.
Me #2.
How often does that happen? How often can that happen?
Weird.
I don’t like to brag, but such victories for unknown authors are rare and all too fleeting. So please forgive me this moment of crowing …
before I sink back into the depths of literary obscurity.