Scratch an Itch

I caught a fleeting glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye.  I knew she was there.  I had intentionally avoided making any eye contact, but I could not help myself.  I had not been so close to my mistress in months and revelled in how beautiful she looked.  Sunshine's glow highlighted her features and her lines were even better than I remembered.  Despite my planned avoidance, I suddenly was captured in her trance, unable to help myself.  In such a hurry to touch her, I forgot my crutches and hastily hopped the chain link fence that was the final barrier between us.  I completed the obstacle as if my cast was no longer worn and crouched down beside her.  My fingers reached out and ...

I was really on the Apex Trail and touching its gritty dirt!   Wahoo!

OOPS!

Grunting, I heft up the final bale of hay to load the truck for the morning's feeding.  Circling around the front of the pickup truck, I notice Jax and Tari both scrunched in the driver's seat, appearing like spatting siblings ready to fight over who was going to drive.  I crack the driver's door open and both stand with their stubby tails wiggling as if I had been gone for a month.  Dogs are amazing.  Human have so much to learn from them about devotion, forgiveness....the list is extensive.  And, it includes stunt driving.

Extreme City Slicker

A steady stream of headlights exits the highway as I watch for my friend's car.  Life has thrown him a few curve balls and I invited, maybe even demanded, Oso joining me for a run since few problems can't be figured out during a long trail run.  A car pulls up with a smiling face and he follows me further down the interstate to the parking lot at the base of the trail.

On the horizon, dawn is painting the inky night sky with large brush strokes of brilliant colors as we head out.  Typically music seals my ears while I run, but today I leave the music behind to visit with Oso as we trek up the trail and enter the canyon. 

Shoulda' Known Better

Steam rolls off their wet backs as they trail single file through the deep snow from the windbreak that sheltered them from the storm.  Older calves that typically run helter-skelter, bouncing off their mommas and each other, are constrained by the snowfall and follow along in the quickly developed cow path.  An occasional cow stretches her neck to beller as a vapor cloud forms in front of her face.

Silently Judged

Wholeheartedy sick of being such a burden around the house, I look around and decide to help with a simple chore that will reward me with a feeling of accomplishment.  Eagerly, I ditch the crutches to free up my hands and do the one-leg hop to the overflowing laundry basket.  Grabbing the basket so the narrow portion travels freely through doorways, I hop-hop-hop through the house and to the stairs. 

Carefully, I concentrate on balance and drop one stair at a time, make the landing and finish dropping more stairs to the laundry room.

Whew!

Moustache Unplugged #3

Hehehe...undetected, I've grabbed a moment to work on my letter...

Dear Olympic Committee,

Sochi was a beautiful place with scenic views and magnifcent structures to accompany the 2014 Winter Olympic Games.  But, did you notice the palm trees?  Um, palm trees grow in warm climates and I think Winter Olympic sports require cold temperatures...

As a review, summer is to hot as winter is to cold. 

Too Late to Fix

Alone, instinctively distancing himself to the far corner of the horse pasture, Sierra stood.  Eyes bulge, ears are pricked and nostrils flare as he intently watches my cautious approach.  One hand carries a dangling bucket of grain while the other pretends to hide a halter and lead rope behind my back, an overused ploy that I am sure he's seen hundreds of times.  I was new to the ranch and learned from the other hands that Sierra was a captured wild mustang from the Brown's Park area in the northwest corner of Colorado.  Years ago, Butch Cassidy, The Hole in the Wall Gang and other outlaws used the same area for its remote, unforgiving and desolate characteristics.  If Sierra was really born and raised there, his personality may cast a fitting reflection of his early years.

"Easy big fella," I gently spoke to him as his muscular body tensed. 

Gut Check

"You're tougher than you think you are, and you can do more than you think you can."     Ken Clouber, co-founder of the Leadville 100

"Race Across The Sky" refers to the Leadville 100 (LT100) trail run, a race that starts and ends in the highest incorporated city in the United States.  At an elevation of 10,152 feet, simply walking around Leadville, Colorado makes people gasp for oxygen.  Once a booming mine town, Leadville's population was decimated when the mine closed and Ken scrambled for its resurrection.  He had heard of some crazy horse rider competing in a 100 mile race, but prior to the race, the rider's horse became lame.  Undeterred, Gordy Ansleigh toed the start line in sneakers and ran against the mounted riders and finished the race in 23 hours and 47 minutes.  That was in 1974 at the 24 hour Western States Trail Ride which pioneered today's frequent 100 mile trail races.

Ken knew he needed an event with such holy-shit punching power that it would arch eyebrows and get people talking.  So, in 1983, why not host a similar event, but at altitude...extreme altitude...Leadville altitude?  Hence, the beginning of the LT100.

Tubbin'

Anger fueled cuss words accompany each step as I crutch towards the bathroom.  The cumbersome cast, decorated in the pattern from Norway's crazy Olympic curling team pants, is a bitch. 

A selfie of a cast? With a pink background?  Pathetic.





Lifeguard

"Hey, look down the beach at this guy in the surf," my wife suggested while sunning on the sands in Hawaii.

"No thanks.  I'm okay just laying here," I replied while laying face down in a lawn chair.  I had just finished snorkeling like the ultimate tourist where possibly half of the Pacific Ocean was swallowed through the stupid black tube.

"I'm serious, look at this guy," she repeated with slightly more emphasis.

The White Man

Absorbing sunlight on his dark, leathery skin, he is warming himself from a cold winter's night.  Long black hair is pulled back into a ponytail as he nestles into his fleece-lined brown leather coat.  He stands tall above the others and a broad nose with prominent cheekbones highlights his Native American blood.  With his head held high, he not only looks stoic, but also appears to be the exact replica of the model used for the classic Buffalo Nickel.

But, his home is being homeless. 

Moustache Unplugged #2

Hehehe...undetected, I have grabbed the opportunity to work on my latest...with a dictionary this time...


I can't believe what I'm hearing!!  It's making my whiskers twitch!

A community in Colorado, who knowingly moved into mountain lion country, are surprised that their dogs and cats are disappearing and are blaming the lion.  Acting absolutely astonished, they are vocal about the calamity to include the sensationalism of how small kids might be next. They are demanding governmental intervention to step in and fix it.

Really?   C'mon!

Pure Grit!

Finland and Germany were neck and neck during the start of the final leg in 4 X 5- kilometer women's crosscountry ski relay in Sochi.  Announcers boldly spoke how the battle for the gold medal was between those two racers.  Entering the final leg 25.7 seconds behind, a time difference too great to make up, was Sweden who was being chased by a 4-time Olympic champion.

The race between Finland and Germany fighting for the gold was at a pace the announcers' assumed they could not withstand.  With such a frantic pace, it was preposterous to think Sweden could catch them.

Divine Intervention

With saddle leather creaking, I was in tune with Amber, a recently purchased sorrel quarterhorse, as my body swayed in the rhythm of her strong stride.  We left the house, cut across hay meadows and pushed straight up the dark canyon's logging road to get to the summer pasture on top of the ranch.  Thankfully, no bears were encountered this time and as we crested to the sagebrush flats, Hugo, my red heeler, jumped on the opportunity to dart past us.  Amber, unbeknownst to me, was competitive.  On her own, she broke into a kidney-bruising trot to regain the lead.  Despite her unfriendly pace, I smiled at her spirit.

Moustache Unplugged #1

Hehehe.....undetected, I've grabbed the opportunity to work on my letter....


Deer Farm-a-sue-t-kul Kompanies,

U make gah-zillions of dollars every year off the sales of pillz.  Many pillz do grate thingz, but it is kommon knowledge that pain killerz constipate.  And u do nothing!

Patience

Patiently, I wait.

Everyday the yearning to see her, to feel her, to breath with her, to run with her becomes increasingly unbearable.  I close my eyes and remember sweat slickened skin, pumping arms, churning legs, labored breathing and a racing heart while spending time with her.  I reminisce over great music from our custom playlist filling my ears while her pine forest scent tickled my nose.  Although bedridden with this dreadful cast, I still catch glimpses of her from my window.  She looks so lovely in the distance. 

A Good Lunatic

Everything was normal.  Cars were stop and go, aggressive drivers darted between lanes, black exhaust plumes from diesel trucks choked the air.  As usual, afternoon rush hour was getting on my nerves.  In a left turn only lane at a busy intersection, I stopped behind a huge camper where my field of vision was limited to bumper stickers collected on roadtrips.  Music from KBPI drummed out of my speakers when, suddenly, the driver behind me fled from his car and stood in front of a Toyota truck rolling in the oncoming lanes. 

The graying man slammed his hands hard on the hood, belly bouncing off the grill, yelling for the driver to stop as the Toyota continued to creep forward.  He worked his way around to the driver's side where he continued his barrage of striking the hood and windshield while yelling at the driver.

Fang versus Rhino Horn

“Whoa!” blurted the surgeon while sliding my x-ray in front of the fluorescent bulbs.  Bones of my right foot and ankle were illuminated and my riddle was finally solved. 

For months I ran trails with pain in my Achilles tendon that I elected to ignore. It’s nothing, I’d tell myself and push through the pain to enjoy Mother Nature.  Good music and thoughts helped drown the pain, but after suffering too many months, my self-diagnosed Achilles tendonitis needed a professional opinion.

“See this here?” asked the surgeon while pointing to my heel bone that had a stalagmite jutting upwards. “That’s a bone spur that grew into your Achilles and you broke it off at the base,” he added.