Laughter is the Best Medicine

This was taken at our home in Buhl probably in 1973 or so. I wish I knew which story or joke Dad was telling.

Ride Hard or Stay Home

I went for a long ride on my Lynskey today. I listened to my iPod for the first time while riding the road bicycle. Interesting. Just loud enough to hear it but low enough I could hear the traffic and such. My mind was much more active with the music...which was a double edged sword. I usually just concentrate on heart rate, breathing and pleasant pain.

I thought about death. I thought about life. I thought about laughter. I don't laugh as much anymore although Arthur and I laughed some when I visited him last night. I thought about obsession. I thought about regret. I thought about progression. I thought about sheeple.

I thought about important things like family, God (Are You really there...?) and health. I thought about unimportant things like work deadlines, most opinions and shoes. Okay, I was just kidding about the shoes.

I thought about how much I hate cars and how much I love two wheeled modes of transportation.

The picture above is of the penultimate bicycle. It is a 50th Anniversary Schwinn Paramount in black with gold decals, 24 carat gold plated fork and kitted with a 50th Anniversary Campagnolo Super Record Group. I love Schwinn Paramounts made when the Schwinn family still owned the company. I had one of the 500 Anniversary models made. Sold it.

I would like to know what contentment feels like. Just for a minute. One small comfortable minute.

1971

Faith Through Adversity

I am struggling mightily...

Happy Birthday to My Father

The above picture is of my father.

When I was little, I was afflicted with the croup on a regular basis. I would get terrible earaches with a throat so sore I could not swallow. My Dad would religiously rub Vaporub on my chest and under my nose (that really burned after rubbing my nose sore with kleenex!). He would warm oil and pour it in my ears to sooth my aches. Dad would also dissolve aspirin in a big spoon as that was the only way I could swallow it.

I would lie on the green couch and wallow in my misery as I really hated to be inactive but had no choice. I would both love and hate my Dad's treatments.

When I was in high school, my father would get up every morning to make me breakfast and to drive me to seminary. That diploma is the one I treasure the most.

When I was struggling as an adult, I only had to call and he was at my doorstep with my mother to give me a blessing or whatever I needed.

Father, thanks for your service to me. Happy Earth Birthday. I really miss you.

My Traveling Star

I was a bad boy this weekend. I decided to forgo the Three Summit Bicycle Challenge and opted to do an overnighter on my Harley instead. The pull of the mountains was just too strong. Unlike my brother who hikes, I prefer to cruise through the mountains and the pines on Grim.

Friday I got a late start but stopped in Mountain Home to visit my Dad's grave anyway. It was quiet and nice. I then headed to Fairfield. I went through a little rainstorm on the way. Just enough to be refreshing but not enough to wet the road. Just right. Weird but I don't mind being rained on in the mountains. Cruised through Fairfield and stopped in Ketchum for lunch at Grumpy's. If you haven't had a burger at Grumpy's, you haven't lived but you have to know where Grumpy's is or you won't just happen upon it.

On to Redfish Lake where I rode right past a deer before I knew it was there. It must have been tame or just as surprised as I because we just looked at each other.

Spent the night in Stanley. The rooms don't have air conditioning so you have to leave the windows open. I could hear the music up at the park from the Stanley Music Festival as I fell to sleep. There are no mountains as grand as the Sawtooths.

In the morning I had "breakfast" in the Mountain Village "restaurant". The owner has turned it into a fast food restaurant with a counter for ordering and they bring the food out. The menu has been ravaged and is minimal. The quaintness and atmosphere are ruined. I won't eat there again. Too bad.

The ride over Banner summit was refreshing and quiet. As quiet as it gets on my Harley. I was rained on again before I reached Lowman. Again, it was refreshing and Grim breathed the cool air gratefully. I met a passel of riders going the other way between Lowman and Garden Valley where I stopped for gas. In fact it was a scary amount and type of rider. A lot of "squids" (squirrely kids). I stopped for gas at Garden Valley.

As I pumped the gas, an ambulance screamed by followed by a QRU, a fire truck and a Sheriff. Word passed quickly as more riders stopped at the Chevron that there was a motorcycle crash up the road.

I got back on the road and as I descended below Banks on Highway 55, the temperature rose rapidly. I almost turned around and headed back for the mountains.

As I pulled into my driveway, I was very torn as I always am. I was glad to be home but wanted to keep going. I guess that's okay.

Yeah, I know...