Date:                           October 27, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

1930

            Our excitement today was a trip to Las Cruces to re-supply our food pantry and to get our Klub newsletter copied and in the mail.  Even if we are roaming around the south west we still have to satisfy our RV club obligations.  Connie has been the secretary for 10 years and that includes the last five years that we have been on the road.  In that time she has always been able to get the newsletter published and mailed to all of our members.  I say that just to show that if you want to do something you will find a way to accomplish it.  If you do not want to do something you can always find an excuse.  We all know the maximum effective range of an excuse and the value of same. 

            Our trip this morning was to be quite uneventful, or at least we thought it was.  We did our normal slow motion act of getting out of bed.  We are really getting spoiled here.  We do not have to work until 11:00 and on our days off we have even lees stress, if that is possible.  We generally watch a bit of news; throw a few bricks at the TV because we are watching the news; we have our morning coffee and accomplish all the other morning chores and duties.  By this time it is late in the morning or early in the afternoon and time enter into our active lives.

            By 10:00 or so it was time to head to Las Cruces and find a Staples to do our copying.  This sounds quite simple.  As we headed out of T or C I heard a tinkle sound and an expletive deleted from my wife.  This is not a good thing.  I tried to remain focused on my driving, but Connie was using a few words that I was not sure I knew she knew.  I decided I had better find out what had happened.  It seems that as she was getting ready to apply lotion to her hands she took off her rings and - - - - - - !  Yep, her ring dropped to the floor of the car.  This not a big deal, normally.  But, my wife has talent.  She managed to drop her ring in a slot the size of a fat quarter.  If she had been trying I am sure this would have been impossible.  As it was, the only impossible part was trying to get the ring back out.  Have you ever tried to get a fat old body twisted and in position to see in a slot under the front seat of a small SUV?  It is not a really pretty picture.

            We had to go back to our rig and get a wire hanger and I tried to find a way to see under a seat that was not placed in a position for that maneuver.  You will just have to imagine my over sized butt sticking out the door of our car with my head tucked up under the dashboard with a hanger in hand and a word of blue on my lips.  Connie was feeling bad and, I think, a bit embarrassed with a flashlight shining from the back seat aimed under the front seat.  The luck of the gods and shiny ring helped, as I finally saw just enough of the ring to hook it with the hanger and pull it free. 

            The good news is that neither Connie nor I raised our voices at each other.  I know, how would that have helped?  I am not sure, but I think in many families this situation could have led to a lot frustration, vocal and very damaging.  Instead it was a chance for me to offer my wife her engagement ring all over again.  In every dark cloud is a silver lining, and under some car front seats is an engagement ring.  The most difficult thing was trying to extricate me from the floor of the front of our CR-V.  By the way that is not the most comfortable place to ride in our car.

            We managed to drive the hour to Las Cruces with little more excitement and with the help of Sackee we found Staples, Barnes and Nobles, and Wal-Mart.  In the life of a full time RVer, this is a pretty successful day.  We even found a gas station that had fuel at $.20 a gallon less than it is on T or C.  Is this a good day, or what?

            To top this day off, I tried my hand at New Mexican cuisine.  I am not sure that I am ready to open my own food eatery yet, but it all did get eaten.  By the time we get home I may even have some idea what I am doing.  Until then, I think that we will enjoy eating the experiments.  Being in New Mexico, I do know that I need to find a good source of chilies.  The state question in New Mexico is: “Do you want green or red?”  I think that is asked in reference to any food item ordered.  If it does not have green chile on it, it probably is not for human consumption in New Mexico.

Miles Traveled           184

Date:                           October 24, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

1900

            I remember the 60s.  I can almost remember the attitudes and dreams that I had way back then.  I can remember the 60s but I thought that was some 40 years ago and I thought that era had vanished into the realm of history.

            When I was a bit younger and a lot more naïve I thought that I wanted to live in a commune and tell the rest of the world to kiss my _ _ _ .  I thought that I wanted to forego the trip through the responsibility world and just enjoy life on a purer level.  I thought all of this and then Uncle Sam drafted me; I came home from Korea and got married; I had a son and buried him in less then 6 months time; and I did all of the other things that fit into the description of middle class America.  I raised a family; had a career; went through a divorce; remarried the woman I should have met first; and ended up retiring early as an executive from a very large communication company.  You might say that I lived, or am living, the pretty normal middle of the road boring life I hated back in the 60s.

            I also sold my home and purchased a very large bus to explore the USA.  I spend a lot of my time volunteering in places that a lot of my acquaintances would never venture.  I may well be living some of the life I once dreamt about way back in the 60s.  I may not be truly living the communal life I once thought we all should attempt to find, but Connie and I are living a fuller, freer life than most of our friends or family.  If we have not captured the full flavor of the hippie 60s we are, at some level, uninhibited by a few of middle class America’s stigmas and albatrosses.   We have found our communal life of freedom and purpose.  Ever expanding our horizons and trying to give a little back to the world that we live in each day.

            I thought that we had been quite successful in our life’s choices until today.  Today I was taken back in time to an era of freedom and simplicity.  Today I was introduced to the big purple bus called Highways Child.  It is a communal tribe of people that travel all over the world.  They have no leader and no followers.  They are just people that board this huge purple bus and travel together until it is time to separate.  They make jewelry to sell for money and power their vehicle on bio-diesel.  The driver is the mentor of the group and has been doing this for over 10 years.  There are no drugs allowed on the bus and all decisions are communally voted and enacted.  It is really a societal example of a subculture that does exist in this country today.  I realize that the people are all young enough to be children of Connie and me, yet they are living the childhood that we left behind nearly a half century ago.

            The visitation of the big purple bus is not really the important message of this blog.  The fact that I really have not grown up in the last half century is neither a mystery nor question that I must explore.  The lesson I am weakly trying to explain is that in this fast moving, politically constipated, overly self indulgent society there is a subculture alive and living.  There are people traveling, or not, through life with little more on their collective minds than the desire to find a place to spend the evening and they are willing to work a few hours in trade for that privilege.  In some ways this culture is not so far removed from where Connie and I are now.  There is a large group of retired, responsible adults doing work camping or volunteer work throughout this country.  These people we see every day at the local KOA or the nearest National Park.  These are people that have worked, paid their dues and are now enjoying the autumn of their lives.  But there is also, just a bit below the horizon, a culture of younger people working and wandering around this country.  If the people from the big purple bus area any example, they are willing to work very hard for their evening respite.

            Today I was transported back in time to when I wanted to be a commune member.  I also learned that the freedom of communal living is not at all free.  It takes a lot of work in order to trade for a night at a hot springs.  And yet, they all worked heartily and energetically to support the needs of the Highways Child Commune.  I would have been extremely pleased if the high paid technicians I had working for me had put as much effort into each day of labor they were very handsomely paid to complete.   Today I was given a glimpse of a subculture that is just under the skin of our modern society.  It is a colorful example of the youth that we do not always see.  It was a modern visage of a 60s dream.  It may have been a glimpse of a reflection of my own life.  Today I met the purple bus called Highways Child and maybe I reacquainted myself with a dream I had thought I no longer understood.

Miles Traveled

Date:                           October 23, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

2130

            For those of you that read this regularly and expect a description of our day at RBHS I may disappoint.  Our day was not all that memorable and I really can not find enough to talk about.  I weed whacked some forest of over grown grasses and Connie messed up the books in the office.  It was pretty much a normal day.  Connie will have to explain her little mistake and once you have whacked one weed you pretty much know the whole story.

            This might make most normal people forgo the effort of writing a blog.  I am not most people and definitely not normal.  So, instead of a normal blog I would like to relay a story.  It is a story that comes from RBHS.  It may even help some readers to understand the aurora that emanates from these hot springs.

            We were setting in the office of RBHS on a rather normal and boring day.  Sylvia had stopped to pass the time of day and we were accomplishing mostly nothing.  It was one of the slower moments at the hot springs and we were all enjoying the opportunity to just talk and get to know each other a bit better.  Sylvia was sharing some of her stories and those connected to the hot springs ands we were enjoying the calm in the day.  As is to be expected at RBHS when things get slow and boring a new experience will open the door to the office and the day will take a turn that is not to be expected.  Today the person through the door was a past work trader that was on her way to someplace and thought she would stop in for a visit.

            It seems that the assignment that she had just finished gave her some time and she needed a person listen to her sad story of troubles.  She had rented a car from a prominent rental business.  Sometimes things go wrong and the rental car had one of those days.  It, and the one before it, failed to complete the assigned travel chore.  She had managed to get a replacement the first time the car failed but on the second attempt things went radically wrong.  I will not bore you with the explanation of all that went wrong.  Suffice it to be said that she was not happy with the service she had received.  It had caused her to spend a night in Albuquerque, at the car rental company expense.  It was a night that she had not planned on spending in NM and now she was a good day behind schedule.

            I realize that things happen and sometimes it happens to you, but this case had a few little twist that caused this poor young girl to feel like she had not been treated quite as fairly as she should have been.  She was treated with less than respect due to her color.  I know that this is always a cliché prejudice that is thrown around all too very often.  But, as she related her story it was very difficult to not find a very ugly tone of prejudice in her story.  She had been treated with a lot less respect just because of her color.

            I realize that we are in a world that this is not supposed to be possible.  There are laws and we are told that this kind of thing does not happen any more.  Denny’ does not treat black people with less respect than whites.  When you apply for a job they can not use your color, ethnic background or age as a qualifying criterion.  And yet, here before us stood a lovely young lady that had a story that had brought her nearly to tears.  This was a story that reeked of prejudice and bigoted stupidity on the attitude of the people of this very prominent car rental company.  Prejudice is all too alive in America today and if you are not a WASP you all ready know this fact all too well.

            The end of this story is not as bad as you might think.  After talking to the main office of the car rental company she did get a new car and her expenses paid.  She was now on her way to Austin, TX as she had planned.  You might think that a happy ending was reached by all.  That is unless you happened to be this fragile human being that was treated with much less respect than she deserved.  She was, in some ways, abused because of her color.  It was not the color of her skin that caused this bigoted failure of humanity to act this way.   It was because of the color on her skin.  She is a Tattoo artist and an example of her expressions.  The eccentric sample of ink that adorned her body seemed to; somehow, make her less of a person.

            As we were trying to let her vent her frustration and angered hurt we stumbled into another avenue of prejudice and bigotry.  This time it was not because of a body pigment, either internal or externally applied.  This time it was caused by an RV with a full paint job and 40 feet long.  It seems that as Connie and I drove up to RBHS Aurora’s ambiance preceded us.  In a place where everyone fits it was feared that we would not be proper.  It was expected that big rigs, big egos and pompous arrogant people all arrived on the same wheels.  Being the compassionate feeling person that I am; I told the lovely young girl that was having a bad day or two that often it is not just the color of your skin or even the color on your skin that causes weak minded people to act less than human. Sometimes it is the color of the paint job on your bus that causes people to show a hint of prejudiced bigotry.

            We are not going to change the paint on our rig and I am sure Mia is not ready to alter her bodily art gallery.  Maybe it is all of the rest of us that need to readjust the color control on the opinion knob of our bigotry.

Miles Traveled

Date:                           October 22, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

2100

            If this is Sunday, then we must be looking for a church to explore.  Lucky for us, there is a UMC just down the street and we can walk to church on Sundays.  Today was to be our first visit.  As we strolled the 4 blocks that I thought was only 2 Connie said that she felt some apprehension.  This was to be our first visit to this church and we had not met any of the parishioners during our short stay in T or C.  I am a bit more adventuresome, but I told her we could sit near the back of the church and the door if she liked.  You can never be too sure and a quick access to the exit might be a good thing.

            Our trepidation was totally unfounded.  The people could not have been more warm and welcoming.  The music may not have been professional, but the pianist did apologize for each mistake she made as she was playing the hymns.  Connie and I were even instructed on how to sing one of the hymns.  There was, apparently, a word in the hymn that the song director thought we might have a problem pronouncing.  The word was, “light.”  It seems that this word is pronounced “L-i-i-i-i-i-i-e-e-t-t” around here.  At least I think that is how it is sung, I have only been here one Sunday.

            As almost every one of the 40 or so people in church came up to introduce themselves to us we noticed that a large portion of the members were from New York.  Some had moved here some time ago and some were just wintering here to avoid the white nemesis of upstate New York.  I did not ask them to pronounce “Light” to see how long they have been here.  Connie and I also noticed that once the members found out who we were and where we were parked that they had already made notice of Aurora.  I guess that even though she is bronze with earthen tones she is still hard to hide in the dessert.

            After church we took a picnic to Elephant Butte State Park and met some other vagabond upstate New Yorkers.  They are working at the entrance gate.  They have been coming here for the past 4 years and seem to really love this area.  I am beginning to think that most of New York is moving to New Mexico, one couple at a time.  It is very strange, but the cold northeast attitude seems to fade in the dessert sun when they arrive here in the land of enchantment.

            While at the park Connie and I tried to find a few Geocaches and we were total failures.  Either they hide them better around here, or I am just a big chicken when it comes to sticking my hands and fingers in places that I can’t see all the places.  We did get to see some very pleasant views of Elephant Butte Lake and the dam.  We did get to take a couple of nice walks in the dessert and dried up riverbeds.  And, we did not find a thing.  It was still a good day with more deep blue skies and temperatures in the 70s.  Maybe it’s the sun that is warming up the cold attitude of the northeast.

Date:                           October 21, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

2000

            The ever difficult chore of description is what I face each night as I start my blog.  Sometimes I have a difficult time describing the scenery we have seen through out the day.  Sometimes I have a hard time trying to explain the people that have entered our lives.  It is a very difficult thing to try to describe your world when the reader is unable to look through your eyes or feel your experiences.  And yet, here I m again facing my laptop with a blank piece of paper and mind full of thoughts.

            While driving through the back roads of south central New Mexico I did come up with a way to describe the scenery.  “It does not belong.”  When ever you see a scene around here there will be a prominent part of the vista that does not belong.  If you are in town it may be a pitched roof among all of the flat adobe roofs.  If you look at the horizon it may be the jagged, yet sharp, mountain outline that interrupts the serene pastoral rolling dessert landscape.  Or it may be a shade of purple or blue or pink that reflects the bright glistening sun.  What ever the surrounding the description will always have a prominent element that really does not belong and yet is a major perspective that makes that special view so very difficult to accurately describe.  We, as blog writers, are left with the simple tools of the English language and at times they are so inadequate.  Not that we can not describe purple mountains or a cape cod house nestled in a development of adobe pink huts, but it just does not seem to capture the feeling of the picture in our minds eye.  Like I said, there is always an element that does not belong and that makes the description so very difficult to fathom in my brain.

            This same feeling of trying to describe a Greek festival to an African herdsman in Spanish is the task I face when I try to explain Riverbend to you poor souls that have never had the experience of visiting.  There is an energy that emanates from this place that may well be the element that does not belong in each description.  Yet, it is the element that personifies this little hot springs mineral bath.  The energy is the description on some level and not just a part of a wordy diatribe.  It is the description that must be felt and not simply read.  It is as simple to explain as is the cottonwood walkway poles that leads to the Rio Grande.

            You ask, what is he rambling on about now?  He has wasted a whole page of my time and he still has no point.  Now he has wandered in to some allegorical description of sidewalk poles.  I think he needs to change his brand of liquor.  Yet, maybe I should continue to read.  It all might actually make sense soon.

            During the early days of Riverbend it was decided to build a walkway to the Rio Grande.  The Rio Grande that is not all that grand right now, but that is another story.  To build this walk way Lee found some thrown away cottonwood poles that he could use.              This all sounds quite simple and normal to this point.  He brought these “throw away” poles home and with the help of some earlier work camper dug a hole in the ground and built a railing to the river. Find a soft spot in the rocky sand of New Mexico pound a cottonwood pole into the ground and go on to the next spot.  This was quite a simple chore and provided a safe means by which the guest could stroll to the river and watch the muddy water head to Texas. 

            Do you think I can tie all of this together?  You might be asking yourself how does this fit in with what ever theme he was trying to develop.  There is an element that does not belong and there definitely is an evidence of energy present.

            The exercise of describing this old walkway rail would be, normally, easy.  The old cottonwood poles have now been replaced due to age and a new walkway.  The old cottonwood poles are not gone, totally, and that too is not terribly abnormal.  So far the description is pretty simple.  The entrance of the subliminal energy does add a slight twist to the “normal” chore of description.  You see, the cottonwood poles, at least 2 of them, are now 15 to 20 feet tall and beautiful patio trees.  The poles were not ready to be cast aside and to become embers in an evening campfire at some time in the future.  These poles had a life to live and through some quirk of fate they found their way to Riverbend and chance to rejuvenate. 

            A tree is a simple thing to describe.  A walk way made of cast off wood and rails is not a terribly difficult thing to explain.  Even trying to descriptively place a tree in the patio area of a hot springs spa on the Rio Grande is not an extremely difficult task.  Trying to explain how all of these elements do belong in the same descriptive sentence is a bit over whelming.  Yet in that sentence is hidden the under lying charm of being here and enjoying the aurora that emanates from this budget resort.  It is not your perceived value, or lack there of, that makes you a part of this place.  It is not your perceived usefulness, or deficiently there of, that makes you a value to the operation of this place.  It might be the unrecognized opportunity for you to grow uninhibited while you are here that best codifies your personal inner description of what being at Riverbend Hot Springs is really all about. 

            It may well be the element that does not belong that truly does describe the scene.  Riverbend would exist without the cottonwood trees, but their presence here does more to describe this place than simple words will ever attempt.

Date:                           October 19, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

1930

            The last couple of days I have been trying to explain what it is like at our new home.  I am sure that I have not done the place or the people the true justice that they deserve, but it has been a raw and honest first impression.  Coming from the northeast and trying to fit in the southwest can be like putting the toothpaste back in the tube after you run over it with a car.  I do not think that it is the southwest that has the problem, it is probably the “tight-assed” northeasterner that is somewhat constipated.  I hope that the local people keep giving us a chance.  Believe it or not after just a few days it is beginning to feel like home.  Maybe not “our home” but it is beginning to feel like a home.  I even enjoyed the realization of a new grandmother as she found out she had just become such.  She was our waitress at Pizza Hut and a charmer.  The electricity in her eyes was captivating as she received her phone call and shard the wondrous news with me.  It was just like family, and that is what makes this place so special.  It is the un-specialness that makes this place so special.

            Ok, so what do we do all day at our new home and winter employment?  Well, to begin with we are not overly stressed.  Our work schedule has us reporting to work at 11:00am. That simply means that we get to sleep in late, have a leisurely cup of coffee, and even accomplish any simple house chores that need to be completed.  After a very simple and low key morning we have to walk all the way across the street to report to work.  I thought I had it easy when I did work and had to walk just 4 or 5 blocks to my office.  Now I can throw my coffee cup and hit my office.

            Connie has, in three days, taken over the daily operation of the Hot Springs.  Our past experience has made it very easy for her to learn the few nuances that are particular to the place and she beginning to feel quite comfortable being left alone to run the office here.  We do not have a large amount of rooms to worry about, but the place has been a little busy.  As is normal in any position, the simplest of days and operations can turn to ka-ka with just the single ringing of a phone bell or the entrance of a customer with a question that had not been asked before.  In three days I am sure that Connie has not heard every problem or encountered every problem, but she has developed a sense of security in her little office.  Of course, she is already cleaning the office and contemplating the need to organize things.  This should not be a surprise to anyone that knows her.  The neat thing is that the owners here are not surprised or put off by her zeal and desire to put forth her efforts.  It is a pleasure to work someplace where you are really appreciated and treated as a valued addition to the staff.

            While Connie is working I get to play.  I have been trained, sort of, in the office, but I am spending most of my time outside doing whatever I think needs to be accomplished.  I do have some routine chores that I should get accomplished.  They include cleaning and refreshing the hot spring mineral baths.  I have found that if you get a decent power washer this chore is quite simple.  I have also found out that if you are in a tub with a power sprayer washing the side of the tub area that it is quite likely that you will soon be soaking wet.  They call it “splash back.”  I call it pretty darn wet.  Luckily we are in the normally dry southwest so I do dry our pretty fast.  I also am learning to stand up wind and not down wind from the spraying wand.  As I stated in my earlier blog; this place is a work in progress, and I am progressing at my work.

            In a later blog I may explain about the tempered water that we use to fill our mineral baths.  I may explain how it is all natural and totally controlled and provided by Mother Earth from under the Rio Grande.  I will explain how the water is unaltered and no chemicals are added for ether good or bad.  I may even try to explain how the temperature is 108 degrees as it leaves the hold of Mother Nature and flows through the multi leveled baths and slowly regulates its temperature to a low of 103 degrees.  Maybe I will explain all of this and then maybe I have just explained enough.  I have not yet explained about all of the minerals that are present in the water, but then I am not sure I know yet.  That may be in next week’s education class.

            By the way, after only 3 days Connie is in charge of training the “new” team that will be sharing our chores.  Is she a quick learner or what?

Date:                           October 17, 2006

Location:                    T or C, NM

1900

            Today was day one of our new life.  Our strenuous work day starts at an early 11:00 am and we are finished at 5:00 pm.  That may not sound like a long day, but we are definitely not overly stressed.  Actually we have it very easy and if today is an indication of what the rest of the winter is going to be like, I think we might just make it.

            As is the case so very often, even the simplest of operations can have a lot of underlying intricate steps that need to be learned.  This job is one of those situations.  Our past experience is going to be of great help and I am sure that we will learn our job very soon.  Basically we run the place 3 days and then have 3 days to run around New Mexico and play.  Is life rough or what?  This morning we had everything explained to us and I think that I remembered about nothing.  But, I am sure that we can fake it until we get in the swing of things.  By this afternoon Connie was running the office like she had been here all of her life.  I had learned how to be a seat for the office cat.  She or he, who knows which, seems to sit on anything that does not move and this afternoon that was me.  The cat seemed quite happy and I had a job I could handle.  I was scratching the cat’s back.

            The catch phrase around here is “It is a work in progress.”  And, there are a lot of projects in the process of making progress.  Jake, the energetic son, is working feverishly to upgrade the business and he is making some headway.  He is also only one person but, with his eclectic array of work campers and work traders he is making some progress and as we know it is all “just a work in progress.”

            The people in town and at the spa are all very friendly.   I had to make a quick run to the post office to mail a package this morning.  While there I learned that the postal agent does not like merry-go-rounds, but doe like ferris wheels.  I learned that she also like to fly in small planes and feel that sudden air turbulence tummy tingling feeling.  I learned this not because it is important, but because she wanted to talk and I was the person in front of her.  That happens a lot around here.  As soon as you say good morning you become an acquaintance that needs to know things like merry-go-round phobia or the benefit of blue corn over normal yellow corn.  Connie and I have arrived in small town south western America and we are learning to enjoy it.

Miles Traveled

Date:                           October 15, 2006

Location:                    Truth or Consequences, NM

1800

            We have arrived at our winter home and I am sure I will have plenty to write about as time progresses.  It is the last 4 days, or so, that I must try to recap.  I have posted a few, and I do mean few, pictures for your entertainment.  Connie and I have well over 300 pictures and they are at least as beautiful as the ones I choose.  The 300 pictures are just a start.  We, also, have nearly an hour and a half of movies.  Sometime I hope to compile all of this into a manageable presentation that, I am sure; we will want to bore you all with when we get home.  For now, please enjoy the very small sample, and do not forget to view the pictures in full screen mode.

            Before I even begin to make and attempt to explain how fantastic the last 4 days in Albuquerque have been I must say a few words: WOW, Beautiful, Awesome, WOW, Cool, Fantastic, AWE, OOH, AAH, I can’t believe my eyes, and a myriad of other trivial words that could never begin to describe the beauty of multi-colored marbles floating in a azure sky. 

            Connie and I arrived in the center of Albuquerque right in the middle of the biggest fiesta they have all year. The world of Balloonists arrive to float their dreams suspended from multi-colored orbs and Connie and I arrived in a dirty Aurora towing a very dirty Chianti.  After our less than perfect arrival Connie and I went to bed fully unprepared for what await us in the morning.  We knew it was going to be a special day when Connie did not have to kick me out of bed.  I was up and peering out my window at 5:30 am, looking for the dawn patrol of balloonist.  There is not much light at that time of day, I found out. 

            As we sipped our first cup of rally coffee we were treated to our first view of the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta.  Just across the parking lot right in front of us a glow of fire rose blinking a flickering good morning to the collected rally attendees.  Before long a second and then a third flickering globe of fire arose from the horizon.  The dawn patrol was underway and our excursion into the world of wonder was also underway.  The sight of one or two balloons flying over head has always drawn my attention and here I was standing at dawn watching 5 or six balloons soaring right over my head.  This is going to be cool.

            As the sun finally peaked over the jagged Rocky Mountains the first wave of the dawn patrol was disappearing behind us and our attention was again drawn toward the Fiesta field.  Soon we saw a mass ascension of nearly 100 special shape balloons and some 600 or more “normally” shaped balloons take to flight.  The wind direction was such that as the brightly colored shapes lifted off the Fiesta field they floated directly at us.  A cow the size of a small house, a witch riding a broom and animals beyond description rose from the horizon and floated right over our heads.  It was an impossible exercise in futility to attempt to keep our mouths shut.  We had all seen a myriad of pictures of the balloon fiesta, but I really don’t think any of us were ready for the beauty of reality.  The sun was bright and brilliantly illuminated each floating work of art against a deep pure azure sky.  The sky actually does becomes filled with beauty and awe as balloon after balloon after balloon rises to float directly over our heads.  It is a sight that we all have seen, or we think we have seen.  It a scene that is never truly appreciated until you have actually lived it and experienced the kaleidoscope of colors magically floating in an early morning New Mexico sunrise.  It was all that and yet so much more.  The 150 pictures that Connie took and the hour of movies that I filmed might better explain the wonder we felt this first morning of out trip into fantasy and beauty.

            Our rally host had managed to come up with a wonderful schedule of events and free time to make our experiences a once in a life time excursion into the wonder of the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta.  We toured Old Town Albuquerque, Santa Fe and the Pueblo Indian Cultural Center.  Newmar does a rally well and this rally lived up to the standard.  There was entirely too much food and we were overly spoiled.  There was never enough time to get a great amount of sleep.  But, we had paid to experience our first visit to the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta and Terry and Berry were going to make sure we did.  The brochure did not mention sleep, and it was not their responsibility to see we got any.  We were given, at times, the choice of sleeping or enjoying.  Connie and I did a lot of enjoying.

            The first evening Connie and choose to visit the field for the Special Shapes Glow-deo.  We arrived just as the balloonist were setting up to fill their perspective creations of art with cool air and then fire the burners to heat that air and raise the balloon off the ground and suspend it over the gondola.  As the night progresses these balloons are lighted and the throng of fiesta visitors cheers and yells in appreciation.  This is exciting enough, but the real thrill is the way that the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta allows the crowds of people to intermingle with the balloonist and pilots.  As these enormous artistic creations are being brought to life you are allowed to walk through the field and interact.   You might even be asked to aid one of the teams in tethering the balloon or adding your weight as ballast as they regulate the lift potential of the heated air filled balloon.  There is nothing like walking up to a half body floating Jesus that towers ten stories into the air; or greeting a dragon that towers above you so high he nearly touches the evening stars.  It is a beautiful magical moment to see these creatures float 5 hundred feet over your head, but to actually touch them and watch them materialize from flat colored lawn carpets to the piece of art they are meant to become.

            By the second morning Connie and I had experienced more than most people will ever dream about.  We had seen hundreds and hundreds of balloons float over our heads and then had the privilege of walking among these giants of art.  We had visited old town Albuquerque and eaten ourselves in to a plan for a mandatory diet.  And yet, it was just beginning.  The second morning I must admit that I slept in until nearly 6:00 am.  Yes, I was up before the sun again.  This morning we ventured to the field to watch the ascension up close and excited.  As we approached the grounds the special shapes were already lifting off.  As we approached the field we were lucky enough to be at the feet of Mr. Bub, the turtle, as he and the twin bumble bees took to the air.  It is a magical scene to watch and experience Phineas T. Boggs lifting off and bidding farewell to the real world of earth dwellers as he rides his inflated turtle or bumble bee or huge cow into the crystal clear sky of morning.  To put it simply, “It was cool.”

            After the special shapes had taken flight the “zebra’s” cleared the field and prepared for the daily competition.  The Zebra’s are the flight controllers on the field and the daily competition was a Key grab and a 3 hole golf game.  What this means is that some 700 balloonist take off a mile away and must maneuver themselves on to the field and grab a white envelope atop one of five poles.  After that they must fly over one of the flags and drop their streamer as close as possible.  They must then soar out and up to find a way to return to the field and make a second and third pass at the prizes and golf flags.  This all really does not mean a lot to me.  The magic of floating a balloon due south then rising to an altitude that will force you back north again to return you to your starting point and allow you to make another run is neat and very proficient, but beyond my total understanding.

            What Connie and I were privileged to experience is 700 brightly colored balloons coming right at us at a level barely 10 to 20 feet off the ground.  The sky was not the only area full of color and majesty. The horizon and the near foreground was also filled with hundreds and hundreds of balloons.   It is the sight that we all have seen in so many magazines and calendar photos.  You could not turn your head and not see a sky full of magic and color.  And this went on and on and on as more and more balloons lifted off and joined in the parade of fantasy.  Again the day was crystal clear and brilliance of the colors was beyond description.  All of those mouth gaping words I started with are again meager in their ability to express the wonder we were living. 

            Believe it or not, I have not yet begun tell you about our rally.  It was all of this and so much more.  I have not told you about Tam and Steve, our tour guide and bus driver.  I have not mentioned High Finance and the dinner we had at 10,000 feet.  I have not even hinted at the miracle stairs at the chapel of the Sisters of Loretta.  And, I have not described our lunch at Tomasita’s, or our lunch at Seasons.  I am sure there are many more things that I have not included in this catch up blog, but it is getting a bit long winded.  We also will still have many stories to tell you about when we get home.  All you have to do to get us started is to mention Albuquerque and I am sure we will keep you entertained as long as you can listen.  You could just ask about the gentleman and his family that “dropped” coffee the last morning that we were at the fiesta.

            We had a great time, and that is a major under statement.  We took far too many pictures and we love each and everyone.  If you ever get a chance, there is only one Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta and Connie and I would love to go with you and share this trip into fantasy.

Miles Traveled           182

Date:                           October 11, 2006

Location:                    Albuquerque, NM

2030

            We have finally made it to the Balloon Fest in Albuquerque.  It was a fantastic drive across New Mexico and a very pleasant travel video was playing on the windshield in front of us.  We were traveling through the high prairie and entering the high desert of the south west.  It is an area that can seem so simple and unassuming until you happen to gaze at the horizon and see the peaks of the Rockies jutting sharply to the sky.  It is another picture post card beauty that we call America.

            Our arrival at the balloon fest was not as pleasant as one might wish.  We approached Albuquerque on Interstate 25 and found our exit quite easily. I had two navigators, one was Sackee and, just incase, I employed my trusty wife as back-up.  Both of the women in my life directed me very nicely to the street I needed and toward the parking area for the fest.  Traffic was pretty much as one would expect in a large city with half of the world visiting to see a bunch of balloons fill the sky.  Sadly there were no balloons in the air as we arrived, but there were a lot of cars on the ground.

            As I said I found the street I needed very easily. Finding the right turn form that street into the parking lot seemed to be a bit more challenging.  There are a lot of people that come to this thing and they all have their own special parking areas.  We did find the Newmar signs and with Connie’s I proceeded to my special area.  All of the signs were for me to continue straight ahead.  This I can do quite easily.  Then just as we came to a traffic light I noticed a sign pointing to the left.  The sign was just past the intersection. I never know if that means to turn right here or to go to the next intersection.  I always choose the wrong intersection.  I usually choose the next intersection because the sing is past the traffic light so they must mean to go to the next corner.  As I proceed past my turn I generally notice my destination off to my left as I miss my turn.  When you are driving a 60 foot train this can cause the best of us to yell OH S_ _ T.  Now how do I turn around and get back here? 

            Today I wisely turned at the first intersection and followed a Country Coach into a cull-de-sac.  As I sat and watched him unhook his car so he could turn around I was given the chance to feel like the big fool I was.  As soon as he finished his classic maneuver, Connie and I did the same and Connie went to look for our real turn.  Two way radios are wonderful.  Connie went to the second turn and found our group and called back to me to follow her lead.  I had finally managed to turn this beast around and made it back to the infamous intersection and headed to the right turn.  Connie was waiting patiently for me to guide me into our new home spot.

            The people seem very friendly.  The food is very plentiful.  And, we are very excited about being here.  We have been promised that we will not have much time to sleep if we want to enjoy all that is to be offered.  The first balloons are to lift off tomorrow at 5 am.  Can you believe that I will be up at that hour?  Well, maybe I will make the special shape ascension at 7.  Coffee is at 6, I might even make that if Connie can kick me out of bed.

            By the way, we drove over 2300 miles to find two couples from Corning and Bath at the same rally.  It can be a very small world at times.  Early tomorrow, weather permitting, it will be a highly decorated one.

Miles Traveled           230

Date:                           October 10, 2006

Location:                    Raton, NM

1930

            We are now parked just across the New Mexico boarder and have just watched the sun set behind the snow covered peaks of the Spanish Hills.  Yesterday I had wished  for my blog tonight to be of an uneventful and boring day.  Our day was not overly traumatic and you will have to judge the level of boring or excitement.  Connie and I will remember the drive today for a long time.  We have tried to share just a bit of it through the magic of pictures and the internet.  Please try to place yourself in our rig as we drove to and trough Monarch Pass this morning.

            Our day started very calmly and somewhat apprehensively.  It was time to pull in the slides, turn on the engine, and leave Blue Mesa Ranch in search of new adventures.  It had rained for a share of time during the night and since the pass we needed to cross was at an elevation of over 11,000 feet we thought it best not to be in too much of a hurry.  The mountains out our front window all glistened with a new crown of brilliant snow.  But, the roads around us were all clear and with any luck by the time we reached the peaks that we need to cross Mother Nature would have done the same to all of those roads also.  Connie and I were still a bit concerned about the weather and the thought of climbing from our 7600 feet to the summit of Monarch Pass at some 11,312 feet.  As hard as it is to believe, we needed to climb nearly a mile straight up in to the sky from where we were now sitting. It was cool this morning, but it was above freezing.  Maybe we had not stayed too long at the fair.

            Our plan this morning was to stop at the McDonald’s on the way out of Gunnison and get our breakfast and then carefully venture up to the peaks of the Rockies.  As we pulled in behind 6 other trucks along the side of the road I mentioned to Connie that this must be a good idea, most of the other truckers were doing the same thing.  As we approached McDs we noticed a blinking sign on the side of the road.  The closer we got the better we could read the blinking warning that, “Monarch Pass is closed and all commercial vehicles must use chains.”  We just may have stayed too long at the fair. 

            It was breakfast time and I needed a cup of coffee, and maybe a shot of bourbon.  At least we could each have a breakfast and maybe by the time we finished the road would be open again and we could continue.  We ate slowly and prayed quickly, but the trucks out front did not move.  That stupid sign kept blinking and my lovely wife told me that, “This is why I wanted to leave yesterday.”  For those of you that do not speak wife-ese that translates to a big “I TOLD YOU SO.”  By ten o’clock or so we had finished our breakfast sandwich, emptied our coffee cup and were still looking at dry clear roads out in front of where we sat.  The man in me, something that most husbands should learn to control but seldom do, decided that since the roads here were so clear and that none of the cars coming from that direction had any snow on them that it must be ok for us to precede on to our destination.  With apprehension and fear under some control we started up Aurora and headed for Monarch Pass.

            The clouds hung on to the peaks in front of us with ferocity.  The sides of the mountains ahead of us were all snow covered like a picture out of an Alpine story book.  In an ominous way it was a very beautiful morning and dramatic in a partially cloud hidden mystique way.  The roads were still clear, the cars coming at us from the pass were not snow covered and the few trucks we saw did not have chains on.  Maybe the blinking sign should have been turned off and traffic should have been allowed to continue.  You know how those state workers are?  Sometimes they are not as efficient as we all would like them to be.  Aurora proceeded on with not a fear in her diesel hum.

            As we approached the 9,000 foot mark I noticed a definite change in the road and weather conditions.  My “ICE” warning light was now flashing on the dash board and it appeared that there might be a bit of slush on the road.  My warning light comes on just before the possibility of ice forming on the road happens and the slight collection of moist wet snow was an indication that my alarm was working just fine.  Connie was beginning to get a bit more uncomfortable.  I was starting to get a bit less comfortable in my chair.  But, Aurora was doing just fine, and that is what really matters.

            The higher we climbed the thicker the slush became.  We also seem to notice that the cars coming at us had a little white stuff on them.  I was beginning to think that I might have stayed just a little too long at the fair and, might I say it, Connie was right.  We should have left yesterday.  The closer we approached the summit of Monarch Pass the closer we came to the clouds that had, just a few moments ago, looked so dramatic and beautiful as they hugged the peaks off in the distance.  Soon we also noticed that the very few trucks we saw coming at us were, indeed, using chains.  I also noticed when I dared turn my head to the side, that the light dusting of snow that had once looked so beautiful was now a pile of six or more inches of plain, miserable snow. 

            The higher we climbed the deeper the snow became on the sides of the road and more hard packed snow appeared on the driving lanes.  Aurora was climbing easily and performing with great aplomb.  I was maintaining what ever cool I had left and not too deeply in a state of panic.  Connie was now sitting on the floor in the back of the RV.  You see, on the sides of this snow packed, winding, clouded in deep fog mountain pass road was nothing; nothing between Connie’s window and single slip down thousands of feet of air.  Needless to say it was enough to cause her a bit of uneasiness.  Aurora climbed ever calmly though the clouds and snow with not a single slip or slide.  She was being held to a very slow climb by her driver, but that was just how it had to be as we drove higher into the deep clouds at the summit of Monarch Pass at over 11,000 feet.

            We crested the snow covered peak in the Rockies and now all we needed to do was drive back down the other side.  50,000 pounds of bus being pushed by a 4,000 pound car hitched to her but and the snow was getting deeper and the clouds were getting thicker.  Oh, by the way a trooper pulled in behind me as I crested the peak and followed us all the way down.  For once in my life he was the least of my worries.  Again, Aurora used all of her talents, gear reductions, and exhaust break to slowly carry us to the dry road that began to reappear at some 8,000 feet or so.  Connie had again returned to her normal seat and we both could now enjoy the rest of our daily travels. 

            The skies cleared and the beauty of a Colorado blue sky again filled our window.  We both could now enjoy the sugar frosted ponderosa pines that were climbing the snowy Rocky peaks.  We could now enjoy the emerald green fast flowing rivers that wind through the canyons with glistening diamond white water rapids.  We could now enjoy the fact that we had climbed a snow covered, fog ensnared mountain pass in the Rocky Mountains.  We could now enjoy the fact that we now have a wonderful story to tell our family and friends.  We were even going to be able to enjoy this story together, because we were actually still speaking to each other.

            At a rest stop I read a sign that I will attempt to paraphrase.  Colorado is majesty that can not be described in words or experienced in pictures.  It is a beauty that is felt in the souls of the lucky people that live here and sadly by the people that wish they could.  Colorado is Mother Nature’s wonderland.  This morning we experienced a beauty and majesty that will remain in our memories and our souls, but I fear I really have no immediate desire to repeat it.

Miles Traveled           273

Date:                           October 7, 2006

Location:                    Gunnison, CO

2100

            Pictures, fences and ignorant frustration and now you know my day and can save yourself a lot of time by not reading my blog.  I can suffer from a bad case of “Word Superfluous” at times and I thought I would save you some time tonight or today or when ever you read this.

            Ok, the pictures lead in refers to the e-mail that Connie and I received this morning.  Our daughter, Hi Heidi, is in the process of developing her family’s estate.  In her plans is a spot for her wondering parents to park their rig during the summer.  This is all going to be on their newly purchased acreage in he hills south of Buffalo.  This summer this area was just trees, glens and more trees. It also contained a little house of necessity with a battery operated light and a neat door with a shade.  It is just the place to go and get away from the world and enjoy their own private, very primitive campground. 

But, there are plans and dreamsof a family home in the near future.  A part of their plan is to provide a place for Connie and I to park our home when we come to visit.  We will be in the woods, not too close to them, but not too far either.

            The first step in developing their estate was to build a driveway from the main road back into the area that they plan on building their home.  The first step of their plan is now under way and we received a collection of progress pictures.  The driveway is really taking shape and a lot of very big equipment has been pushing stones and dirt all over the place.  The Kibler Estate is becoming a reality.  I would like to say that Connie and I are very proud of the accomplishments that Heidi and Bob are reaching, but I think that we have been out classed.  In one of the pictures our daughter is standing on her land, at her new road way leading to the spot she has designed for her parents and she exhibits all the pride that she truly deserves.  So, our day had a good start with some very precious pictures.

            Our mid day had just a bit less of a pleasurable outcome.  Connie and I had decided to get out of the RV and do some caching.  The rain and chores had kept us locked up too long.  We managed to find our first cache after I climbed over a barbed wire fence and climbed a stone mountain to find my cache buried under some rocks.  It was a nice day so the climb was fine.  It did tend to make this old, fat, fart breath a bit hard.  We are 8,000 feet plus above sea level and there is 40% less air here.  It also made that same duffer question his intelligence as he straddled a barbed wire fence praying that nothing drastic happened.  We found that cache and I am not now a tenor, so I guess all is well.  The next few treasure hunts were not as much fun.

            Getting from point A to point B is a challenge, at times, in Colorado.  A 2 mile destination on our GPS can be a 20 mile drive.  It seems that Mother Nature has placed a bunch of rocks and piles of very high dirt right were the road you wish existed should be.  We went down a few dirt lanes that went no where, and we drove a few extra miles to realize that the rutted dirt path we wanted led to a closed gate with a lock on it.  You see, it will soon be hunting season and the local ranchers are protecting their herds of cattle, that are grazing on public lands, from the invading hordes of hunters, also called the public.  Connie and Rob 1, fences and protective ranchers 4, I guess the game of geo-caching was won by the fences today.

            My third lead about frustrating ignorance has to do with Nat King Cole.  You might wonder how that could be.  You need to do some homework and research.  A couple of simple facts that might lead you in the right direction during your research are: 1- He never won a Grammy while he was alive; 2- He canceled his artistically excellent TV show because they could not find a National sponsor.   It was the second fact that prompted one of his most quoted remarks; “I guess Madison Avenue is afraid of the dark.”  It is this ignorance that, I fear, still exist that frustrate the hell out of me. 

            I will save my fingers, my blood pressure, your eyes and memory space on my blog by leaving my day there.  Actually I think I will go and look at the 30 pictures of happiness that is growing in western New York - the 30 pictures that I can enjoy in Colorado thanks to the magic of the internet.

Miles Traveled           56        Caching

Date:                           October 6, 2006

Location:                    Gunnison, CO

2000

            It rained and pouted again today.  The rain was outside and the pouting was from me inside.  Even when you are a roaming nomad exploring the beauty of our country you still have to pay your monthly obligations and today it was my turn.  Being on the road has caused us to pay most of our bills automatically through our investment accounts, but I still have to update the monthly records and all of that mundane normal stuff.  We also have 1 or 2 bills that we pay individually and those were the major cause of my pouting today.

            The records updating went pretty fast and then it was on to making my manual payments.  This is pretty much just authorizing the payment and noting that on my records.  The internet is a wonderful thing, normally.  As I said ML had done their job and now I was going to do mine; Bump in the road.  When I tried to pay my cell bill the lovely screen that usually gives me a payment voucher number did not appear.  Instead a little note popped up telling me that my zip code on my credit card did not agree with the one on record.  Oops, here we go, a problem to make my day just wonderful.  To add a little salt to the wound of electronic mischief we are in a very poor cell service area and our phone does not work well.  It actually works just fine, only you have to be standing under a gazebo in the parking lot with one leg up and the other leg wrapped around a bench, or something like that.

            To make a frustrating day shorter upon reflection, it seems that my credit card company had run a US Post office program on all of their accounts.  This was to verify addresses and clean up their records.  Well, our address is not a real place.  It is a virtual address and not a real street.  So, the program moved Connie and me to some place else.  I don’t know where, but it was not where we thought we pretended to live.  The little girl in someplace USA fixed the records and placed a block on my file so that nasty program can’t relocate us again.  I paid my silly cell phone bill.  I climbed down from the precarious position in the gazebo I had to find in order to make my call to the lovely girl.  And now it was time to file all of my bill stuff and take my wife into town for lunch.

            Normally going to lunch is a neat thing to do, but not memorable.  Today it became neat and memorable.  Connie decided we should go to a small steak grill house and saloon she had seen on one of our trips.  It was a typical western eatery and not very busy.  That can be a scary thing, but it was well after noon, so we ventured in to explore.  The first beer I ordered was out of stock.  Is this going to be a fore shadow of the things to come?  The waitress was obviously not a customer.  She had no idea what beer was what, but we finally decided on a beer I had never heard of and I prepared to be surprised.

Connie ordered a hamburger.  Not very exciting, but she said it was excellent. I ordered a Philly Cheese Steak.  A mistake I was sure, but I was hungry and for some reason it sounded good. 

            I was to take a trip in to culinary heaven.  The streak was actually shaved prime rib.  It was more tender than the soft bread on which it was served.  It literally melted in your mouth.  It was almost a shame to chew it.  The taste was robust and wonderful and its texture was literally like eating a soufflé.  I mentioned my pleasure to the waitress and she was so happy for my enjoyment that she went into the kitchen to get the chef so he could explain how he does such a fantastic job on cooking this meat.

            The chef was a paradox of stereotypes.  He was, as we learned, a twice degreed graduate of college.  Both of his degrees were culinary sciences.  When he talked about his craft his eyes would actually light up and face would gleam at our appreciation of his ability.  In this manner he was a stereotypical chef.  When he talked about how he prepared his culinary perfections his highly tattooed arm would follow his strong and harsh hands as he carried on his conversation with both his mouth and his hands.  The more he talked and the more we expressed our appreciation the wider his smile became.  It was now that we could notice his lovely piercing in his tongue.  Maybe that is not so stereotypical for a talented chef.  

            As we talked, and I ate, I asked him if all of his steaks were as tender and flavorful as the sliced prime rib I was devouring.  He immediately went across the restaurant and stole a piece of the steak he had just prepared for the waitress for her lunch and offered it to me as a sample.  Needless to say it was awesome and nearly as tender as my prime rib.  We then entered into a discussion of how to best grill steak and maintain that juicy element.  Again, this seems to be quite stereotypical of a good chef.  He even told me his secret for the marinade he uses on his steaks; maybe not so stereotypical. 

            Lunch was fantastic and a simple meal that Connie and I will remember for a long time.  It was, as you might expect, not the cheapest meal we have ever had.  The chef, Andrew if you were wondering, will forever remain as one of our special memories.  If it is not for the stud in his tongue and the arm full of tattoos, it will be for the artistic excellence he adds to his craft of culinary perfection.  Andrew helped the rain seem a little less depressing and he certainly stopped me form pouting, for a little while at least.

            If you are ever in Gunnison, CO and you want a wonderful streak stop in and see Andrew at the Palisades Restaurant and Saloon on route 135 near Wal-Mart.  Tell Andrew high for me and try the Avalanche beer.  By the way the Prime Rib is really all that good as is the sirloin.

Miles Traveled           28        Lunch

Date:                           October 5, 2006

Location:                    Gunnison, CO

2000

            If you have been reading my blogs of late you might get the idea that Connie and I have driven our home to just this side of heaven and  been driving around to explore our new found paradise.  If you have not been reading my blogs than you need to look back through the archives and read about our trip to paradise, better known as Colorado.  If your minds eye and reading imagination is not up to the task there is a very small collection of our photos on this page in the upper right hand corner.  We are not professional photographers, but the scenery here is so awesome that even our pictures are worth the time it takes to down load the little slideshow.  By the way you can enlarge the pictures by clicking on the button in the lower right corner.  If you have not been reading my blogs, what is wrong with you?  Do you think I stay up all night pounding on this poor key board just for my own enjoyment?   Actually I do write these meandering diatribes more for my enjoyment and edification than yours, but I do gladly share some of our adventures with you.

            Today I awoke to rain and clouds.  Must be we are not as close to paradise as I thought we were.  Into each perfect adventure a little reality must rear its honest head.  Today was a trip though reality.  Connie and I managed to enjoy our coffee a little longer this morning.  We managed to do some web searching to understand some of the geology that we have been enjoying as we drive through this land of geological exercises.  We also managed to find our John Denver CD; with us being in Colorado that seemed to be a necessary task.

            By the way, when I was looking up the possibilities of purchasing a new John Denver CD Higher Ground I found out that it is no longer available.  It is, however, available on the net from private owners, what isn’t?  It is available for $65.00.  Boy am I glad that Connie found ours stuck in a wrong jacket.  Yes we did put it in our player and yes we did turn up the sound and enjoy his rendition of Rocky Mountain High.

            As I write this evenings journal entry, it is still raining;  We had a very uneventful day; and I still think that we are parked real close to paradise or at least a very beautiful section of reality that can carry you to a Rocky Mountain High, even I while it is raining.

            I was going to expound on the political news that I have been unfortunate enough to hear lately, but I just don’t have the stomach to rehash the hash as my wife says.  Today may be your lucky day also.

Miles Traveled           27.9     Shopping