SO LONG, SO LONG, SO LONG
THANKS FOR ALL THE FISH!
(in suspended animation until we reach Enlightenment or Uranus - whichever comes first)

Sunday Update 3/19: NEW POST TOMORROW!

YA'LL PLAY NICE!

MASS*

*minimal attention span Sunday!

The Shell on Our Backs VIII

More entries straight from the Travel Journal (feels so unpolished, but maye the pics will make up for it!):

3 August

Yep, had to run the furnace this morning – IT’S COLD!!!!! We needed warmth just to be able to function well enough to build coffee. Got some great sunrise shots of the snow capped peaks and the low angle of the morning sun allowed for some shots of the glacier that reveals its surface irregularities that are lost to the remaining day. I’m trying to be more conservative with the film - well, I am!
We watched a caravan of motor homes come into the parking lot. They were all of the same make and model, belonging to a travel club from the States. It was sort of like watching ants at work. It is a very hard thing for me to grasp the concept of communal anything; to not have some individuality. Here we were, surrounded by the ”Blue Haired Angels” with their matching rayon jackets, polyester pants and black Nike shoes. Our first response was to flee to the glacier and beat the crowd - not that we have had that much trouble with crowds – it’s just a holiday thing I suppose!



Crowd is not the operative word on a glacier - The Columbia Ice Field is roughly the size of Vancouver. It was very awesome standing at the toe of that much ice and snow. I had fun just watching people sink shin-deep into the glacial muck - one minute you are walking on solid ground and the next your knees have disappeared! There was also a group gearing up to walk out on the ice, with their spiked shoes and hard hats on, all in all a pretty colorful bunch. I tentatively stepped onto the ice and even though it has the texture of a rough gravel road it was deceptively slippery - being in sneakers didn’t help.



Photos of blue ice and glacial edge melt were pretty exciting. I know that watching ice melt and exciting generally don’t belong in the same sentence, but once you put it into perspective it is a wonder to realize that this water has been locked in that frozen state for hundreds (maybe thousands of years).




The glacial flowers, though not many, were spectacular in the midst of all the glacier scree, as were the scars on the rock surface now that we understood what they meant. There is a last bit of information about the Columbia Ice Field that - because I’ve never considered the possibility before, I found it fascinating - it is a “triple continental divide”. The outflow goes west to the Pacific, east to the Gulf/Atlantic and north to the Arctic Ocean.
Down the mountain, following the waters bound for the Atlantic through the alluvial valley, we were winding our way through Banff National Park where we might see some bears! This alluvium sea stretched on for miles and often as wide as the whole valley floor and was magnificent in its desolation. It is hard to imagine the torrent of water that flows through this valley during the spring melt, but the rubble left behind is evidence enough of the force and power of this cyclic event.



Worthy of note is the difference in the structure of the mountains, of its variation in rock and stratification and how they each assume their own personality. Notable also is that these mountains, unlike their eastern counterparts, are exposed in their changing landscape; for even in their inorganic makeup they are more alive by virtue of their movement.



Suddenly we were out of nature’s amphitheater and into a Disney theater as we fell upon Lake Louise; notable only from a historical point and the difficulty of trying to extricate the coach from the throngs of holiday visitors. Making our way across the Great Divide into BC and the Yoho National Park and life again resumes.
The most notable things in Yoho was the change in vegetation to dense evergreen forest and the spiral tunnels built to lessen the grade for the trains crossing at Kicking Horse Pass. Some pretty interesting engineering and excavation.
Soon we were out of Yoho and suffering from grand geological overload we were glad to stop in Golden, BC for gas. So here we were, just enjoying this great agrarian valley, minding our own business, when we stumble across an osprey nest built on a platform atop a power pole. She had chicks in the nest and was not happy with our presence. She settled down after a while and posed for a few (hope they turn out) photos. Truly a beautiful bird and it doesn’t take a birder to appreciate the majesty of these magnificent birds in flight!



Approaching Radium Hot Springs I spotted another road sign to add to the ever growing list. I have seen elk, moose and mountain goat crossing signs and now this one for big horned sheep. Hot Sauce keeps calling them “long horned sheep” - I might have to draw one just to see how it would look!
We fell into a great Coast to Coast camp here called Radium Valley - have decided to stay for six days and get our stuff back together.
There are no bears in Canada!

4 August

Trips to Invermere and to the hot springs pool. Invermere for money and the pool to get over it! This Olympian hot tub was well worth the money but we overheated and decided to do the Kootenay - as if more geological input was needed! So we spent the afternoon skipping stones across the Kootenay River (actually put a few on the far bank), beating off bugs and wandering naked through a secluded river valley meadow soaking up the afternoon sun.



Hungry we returned to the hot springs and resumed our soak after a sugar and protein fix. Closed down the pools at 10:30 and slithered home - worthless for much more than sleep! We did decide to find a non-commercial hot spring during our stay here. They do exist we are told.
There are no bears in Canada! I believe that they have all been removed by the Russians. Come to think of it, there aren’t any moose, beaver or wolves either! Maybe the Russians repossessed them all??

5 August

And on the 88th day, they rested. Had to rest. Got to rest. Got to do laundry when the jeans stand alone. Project days ahead while we are in such a fine campground - you know things like washing the coach (that hasn’t had a bath since Sunburst in Florida) inside and out and re-organizing the storage pods. We were touristed out and need to become domestic gods, and so it will be for the next few days.

8 August

Finally washed the coach today - not that it needed it or anything. Hot Sauce is re-arranging the storage pods and we are getting things together for breaking camp tomorrow. Lots of little repairs have been accomplished during this time - like dead bolt locks and cleaning vent fans and sticking shower doors.
Met J and V from North Carolina who have a similar coach and are also pulling an 86 Mazda pickup. He is learning to play the fiddle and she collects rocks. Going to dinner at their place tonight. Will learn to play Mexican train dominoes.
There are still no bears in Canada!

9 August

Reluctant to leave this beautiful campground - a toss-up between this and Christmas Mountain in the Wisconsin Dells. This morning bloomed off another 5 star day but we also feel the need to move on down the road and back stateside for a while. Enjoyed learning Mexican train dominoes and are reluctant to say goodbye to J and V. They did share with us info on a FREE camp right next to the ocean near Orick, CA – sounds intriguing.
So, we are on the road again toward Cranbrook, BC and the Idaho border with maybe a stop in a hot spring on the way. Maybe there will be some bears!!!???!!! I’m bear-y frustrated!

More to come & Hmmm!

The next Shell on Our Backs will post Thursday night – I was trying for today but my scanner had other ideas – blek!

I don’t know why this struck me as both funny and poignant at the same time, but it did just jump off the page. Perhaps it’s because of several conversations yesterday and reflecting on my own past and present.

Fermin – “As I was saying. Love is a lot like pork; there’s loin steak and there’s bologna. Each has its own place and function.” Carlos Ruiz Zafón – The Shadow of the Wind



Hmmmmmm

The shell on our backs VII

Update: here's the links for the previous posts - I - II - III - IV - V - VI !

It’s been a while since I’ve done a “Shell on Our Backs” post and I’ll pick up on the journey as we left Waterton-Glacier Park in Waterton Homestead, AB.

Since I’m not fit company and my creative juice is running very low I’m going to try something a little different and post the actual entries from the travel journal. I’ll ad lib through Jasper and the beginning of the Ice Fields Parkway (much of this has already been written) but the entries from the Athabasca Glacier on will be right from the journal – far more entertaining than I’m likely to be for a while. If the entries become too pedestrian I may drop them in favor of more interesting excerpts. So with the obvious name and gross grammatical error edits and a few photos for punctuation we travel forth.

We knew leaving Waterton Glacier that we would be leaving behind the “huge nature” that we had become so accustomed to and were heading into urban-ness again. Now even saying the words urban and Alberta, Canada in the same sentence seems fundamentally wrong somehow. We had driven for miles and miles on a dirt and gravel road they list as a major road – if showing up on a map of Alberta is an indicator of “major road-ness”. We were passing through ranches and grasslands and although the landscape was not devoid of human presence, it was very sparse. Then suddenly on the horizon was a cityscape, complete with high-rises and the very fabric of our reality rent – so much so that we pulled off the road and studied the face of progress, gathering strength to engage in a reality that seemed so far away just minutes before.

We did have business to attend to like banking and other such necessities of modern life. We pulled into a parking lot of a strip mall on the outskirts of town and unhitched the dingy for the forty billionth time and slowly acclimated to our surrounds as we went about the mundane task of restocking the coach and such. Exhausted from our urban adventure we moved on to the freeway and started driving north to Edmonton. I found myself increasingly annoyed with the density of the traffic and Hot Sauce took over the driving duty while I retreated to the computer and our travel journal.

Out of nowhere came a summer storm of biblical proportions and driving the coach was like driving a billboard since we were heading north and the storm came from the west. It was the only time on the trip that we were actually afraid because of the weather. Fortunately the blinding ferocity of the storm was short lived and interestingly enough there appeared a rest stop as soon as the storm abated. Hot Sauce did a fine job piloting the Queen Mary through the tempest but we both needed a break to let our adrenaline settle down.

So why was Edmonton on the agenda, you might ask, since clearly our interest was in huge nature and not huge city? Well, the youngest was there and we hadn’t seen her in months. I’m not sure what I expected, but Edmonton was nothing like I expected. There was a level of chic sophistication that we found appealing in an oblique sort of way. In contrast to the sophistication was the absolute and utter over-the-top-ness of the West Edmonton Mall. Yes, we went and for those of you who are unaware it is one of the largest malls on the planet, complete with water park, roller coaster and other amusement rides, full scale pirate ship – oh!, it has a bizillion shops as well. OK! It was fun. We left the youngest and the “business” of the youngest behind and resumed our unrestricted journey.

The road west took us toward Jasper and frankly I was not prepared for the overwhelming huge nature as we approached the Canadian Rockies. Glacier was spectacular in its own right, but this was simply breathtaking. Following the Athabasca River as we approached Jasper there was suddenly an explosion of wildlife, more than we’d seen since leaving Glacier. The most exhilarating and majestic was a pair of elk who were still in velvet. I was working with only a 50mm lens at the time and the behemoths were unperturbed with my presence (these pics are un-cropped). In retrospect it was probably far more dangerous than their apparent docility presented.

I fell in love with Jasper itself and it’s a place I have visited several times since. Despite the fact that it is THE tourist wide spot in this abundance of raw nature, it seems to know its place and not overwhelm its surroundings. I won’t bore you with the details since there are many to bore you with, but the affinity for the place is more a feeling than specific.

It was here in Jasper that we needed to make a decision on what direction to take; whether or not to turn north and go to Alaska or south toward the states again. We had been discussing this decision since leaving Toronto knowing that the decision would become obvious once we were in Western Canada. We felt it was too far on the back side of the solstice to give Alaska its due and chose instead to head south along the spine of the Canadian Rockies following the Ice Fields Parkway.

The IFP continued in the tradition of total geographical overload and rates a 20 on the WOW scale of 10. It was huge gasp after huge gasp as we drove through this picture postcard perfect landscape that gave pause to the insignificance of our very presence. Everywhere was evidence of the power and forces of nature at work. The long climb along the alluvial valley left by the roaring waters of the Athabasca River, quiet now that the rush of the spring melt was over, was like driving down the isle of God’s cathedral. It was both humbling and inspiring at the same time. So in awe we approached the Columbia Ice Fields and decided to camp there for the night.

*****here the actual journal entries begin*****

2 August 97

I am now sitting in the most “cool" campsite yet! It could also be confused with the most “spectacular” and the most “wonderful”. We’re at the foot of the Athabasca Glacier at the Columbia Ice Fields, in between Jasper and Banff National Parks, Alberta, Canada. The view out my window is one of those that you would see in the National Geographic, with glacial ice and craggy, rocky mountain slopes. Occasionally the landscape is broken by a stand of trees and residual snow patches that haven’t figured out that it is 80 some-odd degrees out here.

The odd part of this experience is the fact that we are parked in the overflow parking lot at the information center. Generally this kind of camping is less than acceptable; but, frankly, this is the best view we have had on the trip.

Then there are the parking lot critters that seem to always appear around campers - probably because there are always treats that get dropped around them - and right now there is something akin to a prairie dog and a chipmunk scampering about. You know, it seems that most western rodent types have a forward rake to them when they run; kind of like a four-legged dragster! Must be a western thing!
We are going to the toe of the glacier tomorrow and experience just being on a part of it. It is pretty dangerous to walk about on it this time of year because of the crevasses. We will get what we can get! I do want to come back and ride out on the glacier in one of the snow coaches. Just looking at the glacier through the binoculars and seeing its dimension is awesome and I can only imagine how it would be up close and personal.
I find it very interesting on this trip that things have a way of just happening. This trip down the Ice Fields Parkway was not planned at all and certainly not to camp at the edge of the glacier. Yet, here we are, and like so many other places that we have lucked into, this feels special.
Buy the way, it gets damn cold at 6800 ft, even if it is August 2 and there are no bears in Canada - it is all just a myth!

*****to be continued*****

Life errata

Because I have nothing this morning I will leave you with these ~

…from T.S. Eliot

Footfalls echo in the memory,
down the passage which we did not take
towards the door we never opened
into the rose-garden.

…and from Albert Camus. Notebooks

"Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a
minute the glimpse of eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time."

1st Buffle - Mini-buffle that is!

Continuing with the theme from yesterday (that is old pics, not HNT) I thought I'd introduce you to Ginger (yep! I had one too Carolyn). She was my best friend for years and the more I look at her face I realize how similar she and Taylor are - she was equally as sweet as I remember.

BTW - I think that I was "self-barbered" - given that I hated going to the barber shop more than just about anything!

Hey! Ya'll remember the "spring" I've been crowing about - ok, rubbing your collective noses in? Well, I'm here to tell you that it has escaped to Belize - could be - sure as hell isn't here now! 19 frigid fuckin' degrees out there and the yard looks like a bad set for a ghost movie with the mansion turned inside out and sheets draping all the tender rhoddies, azaleas, roses and hydrangea.

At least the sun is out and has been for a few days. I've braved the arctic finger and took full advantage of the midday sun on a fairly protected deck on the south side of the house - working on that all over seasonal glow. Amazing the lengths we'll go to for some vestige of spring and banishment of the mold on the skin! You know what? It might have been in the 30s but because the wind was broken it was actually hot in the sun! Yes I'm ready for winter to be done, DONE I tell you!

Here's to warmer days and warmer ways!

HAPPY FRIDAY ALL - WOO HOO!

Skillful minds

Such skillful minds have we

When our thoughts are of another

Heroic measures often taken

Boundaries pushed aside

Landscapes vast

Skies blue and wide

Sweep the canvas of possibility

Palette full of endless hope

Paint for the rococo dreams of Eros
Seamus ‘99

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY ALL!

Blogaversary and Buffleversary

Hey! It's my Blogaversary! One year and I didn't think I'd make it a month and here I am with more friends than I can say grace over. Starting this I never would have dreamed that I would meet SOOOOOO many wonderful folks from all over the globe. Each of you are special in your own right and I cannot imagine a day passing without logging on and seeing you somewhere in the sphere. You all have become the fabric of my day, whether it's happy stuff, sad stuff, mad stuff, joyous stuff, photos, meme, jokes, recipes and sometimes just an "aw" or "atta-girl/boy" or "get over yourself" - it's all community, our community and I'm glad to be a part of it, a part of you! So, a group hug? We fucking wish! :)
So this is my very first entry:

Tenuous Setup

...and that's all it is!

Well, actually there is more - much more. I was having a bit of creative difficulty deciding to join this fun, but I've learned something in just setting it up. What I've finally grokked is to just Nike the thing and it will find its own voice. Content? Who knows? It'll probably be mostly for my own amusement, but perhaps others will find it entertaining as well.

Random musing come often during my morning sojourn with Bucolic Buffledog - a 1 to 2 mile daily commitment I made to him when he came to be. So...I suppose this will be the e-sieve - the sorting of the spew that would usually evaporate by the first traffic light.

...and so begins the misadventures along with Hot Sauce, Bucolic Buffledog (a.k.a. Bookie and 42 other nicknames that he responds to) , the 3 Saucys, Smiley Jack and a host of others...

It's another "...versary" today as well, it's a Buffleversary! Today, February 13th, is the day Taylor, aka Buffledog, flew into Seatac on Alaska Airlines and wagged his 15# self right into our hearts and I've been able to share him with you as well!

- SO -

Shameless puppy promotion!

I know that some of you have seen these, but it is worth reposting! :)~

I get to come through the gate to a whirling, squealing, barking, talking, jumping, running, goosing (major goosing), huge ball of black and white and tan fun that has an unlimited amount of wet kisses - well until the food hits the bowl - every day!

So, once again, I'm about to inflict baby pics on ya! (since it's what you do on an anniversary, right?) - think ya can handle it??? Big "AW!" factor looming ;)

3 weeks (OMG!)

5 weeks (no recovery from this!)

8 weeks (home!)

9 weeks (rules the roost!)

6 months (we're talking serious "weed" factor here)

It occurs to me that if we were to treat (or be treated by) our significant others with the same enthusiasm as this dog it would probably shake the earth...oh well, it's my post and I can daydream if I want ;)

Have a good Monday ya'll!
Glad ya'll are here!
SMOOCHES!

First audio post from the Damp Dog - hope this works!
Update: Unfortunately it takes a few minutes to load properly - ug! If the playback isn't buffering without sounding choppy, the work-a-round is to start the playback and let it play it self all the way through - approx 4+ min. - and then replay. I don't know if CastPost is having problems this AM or what! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr! If anyone knows a better way to publish an MP3 file here without all the BS please let me know!
If this is too frustrating send me an e-mail and I'll send you the MP3 file directly. :)

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Hump Day shorts

After months of not really being able to hike his leg, the Buffledog is back! Back with a vengeance I might add. Nothing vertical is safe in his world, fire plugs, poles, the unsuspecting leg (if he doesn’t like you) and his all time favorite, daffodils. He’s happy, I’m happy, ‘nuff said!

Stair refinishing project is back on track after being derailed due to electrical issues. The house will get rewired!

My 1 year Blogaversary is February 13th – time doth fly! I like thirteen!

I think this winter has taken us over the edge, with too many very wet and very gray days. Now we just have to figure out how to live bi-regionally, because there is entirely too much geographical eye candy not to be here during the summer months.

On that last note, I’m very happy to see the continuing emergence of early spring greenness.


I recently threw out a question to a musician friend about what recording/mixing software he used in his home studio and what he would recommend. He said he had an extra and would bring it by last Saturday. I checked my computers for space and all three would have room. He shows up with 2 big cardboard boxes and a bag of STUFF!!! WTF??? He meant the whole shebang folks, the whole fucking shebang. Computer, monitor, keyboard, mouse, mixer, mikes, pre-amps, filters, and headphones – holy shit! It’s was a duplicate set-up and it now resides here on permanent loan if I want. I LOVE IT WHEN THE UNIVERSE RESPONDS! Oh! It did move off the dining room table and is now ensconced in the padded quiet room upstairs – yes, I have a padded room – don’t ask! Ok, ask! It came with the house, was the baby’s room and was padded in fabric covered acoustical foam to keep out the traffic noise. Yes it works! Yes it’s cool!

Cha-ching! Woo Hoo!

That is all!

HAPPY HUMP DAY!

Much ado

So, the Hawks lost.
Another year perhaps, but at least they made it to the Super Bowl. Despite the loss I’m full as a late summer deer tick – yep bloated - too much “really good southern barbeque”, too much snacky food, too much dessert.
So, the Hawks lost.
Interesting was that the SB party was at a home that was still without power from the Great North-wet Blow over the last couple of days. A generator to power the media projector, a billion candles, both fireplaces blazing and all the food was done on the gas grill, a smoker and a camp stove. Ok, I was impressed that they pulled off a Super Bowl party for quite the crowd and it made the 2 hour trip and a ferry ride all the more worth it.
So, the Hawks lost.
Met up with friends who had been volunteering at a community kitchen in New Orleans and who are returning to help for another few weeks. Their stories are sad and uplifting and horrifying and hopeful all at the same time. They were members of a Voluntary Simplicity discussion group we were in last summer and they walked the talk and gave up their stressful life in the corporate world and pared down their life to a very manageable pace. They go to Central America to both work and volunteer there next. We desperately tried to talk around the game.
So, the Hawks lost.
The Buffledog was a perfect gentleman in a strange house with VERY fastidious owners (not that they, or he I should say, are anal or anything). The temptations must’ve been overwhelming to his buffle-senses with ribs and shredded pork and crab and such. Never once begged – unbelievable!
So, the Hawks lost.
I’ve now got the lust to visit the Galapagos Islands after seeing incredible photos and hearing tales of our host's very recent trip there. Lusting bad!
So the Hawks lost.
Some sunshine, a snow moon, a great time and a Sunday adventure.
So, the Hawks lost.
Halftime show was fun! Not bad for a bunch of old guys!
So the Hawks lost.
I’m not sure which of the games commercials I liked best, all were outrageously funny – perhaps it was Fed Ex.
So the Hawks lost.
I’m not going to comment on the eyesight of the games refs, the outcome might have been the same.
So, the Hawks lost.

In honor of Groundhog Day

Carolyn’s whistle pig post yesterday reminded me of an incident that happened many years back.

We were living in an alternative community in the foothills of North Georgia, mostly hippies, artist, urban escapees and anyone else that simply “didn’t fit.” We built our own houses and nursed our gardens along and in the main we all looked out for each other. We weren’t a commune, as each of us had our own agenda and therefore independence was the order of the day. Since money was in very short supply, our gardens were required for sustenance and anything that posed a threat was taken very, very seriously.

The deer and the rabbits were the worst offenders and therefore high fences were camp de rigueur. There was an elderly couple that lived at the entrance to the community and were masters at the gardening craft, everything was “book” perfect and we always slowed to admire (and be envious of) the lushness of their patch – truly a sight to behold.

Reba, my then girlfriend/living partner, and I were looking longingly as we made our slow passage by the “Gardens of Babylon” and noticed movement from inside the fence - not a good thing! Having lunch was the biggest groundhog I had ever seen and there was no car in the drive to indicate that the couple was home. We did knock, but to no avail and made the decision to run the whistle pig off ourselves, so we hopped the fence since the gate was locked and confronted the noshing critter. Now neither of us had ever been face to face with a creature such as this and between the look on his face and the size of his teeth we were beginning to question our sanity.

We thought we could herd him over to the hole he’d created under the fence and he would go out just like he came in – no friggin’ way was he having any part of that! I’m sure to the outside observer we looked ridiculous running around the garden chasing the groundhog; dodging, weaving, trying to cut off his escape route and ever trying to work him toward the makeshift door under the fence. We were losing the battle and either a new tactic or abandoning the effort was going to have to happen.

Reba had the brilliant idea, truly brilliant, to capture the whistle pig in a 5 gallon paint bucket that the couple had in there for water and such. Alright, the first couple of attempts were laughable – ok, hysterical and the pig had some teeth and didn’t mind showing them off. The moment of inspiration had arrived and as I herded the rodent along the fence Reba ran over and put the open end of the bucket right in his path. Soon we had a very mad bucket of whistle pig ass and it took both of us to lift the bucket-o-pig over the fence. We unceremoniously let the bucket dump over and the pig was out! As he ambled away he turned and sat there with a “you are SO gonna get yours” look on its face…………..Bucket-o-pig, where’s The Colonel ………………?