bloggages

I have to admit, that this was not completely and totally my idea.  That being said, I don't have to take complete and total responsibility if this does not work out as planned.  You know who you are, thank you for the inspiration to write more.  Right now it seems like a great idea, I might curse you later.  Follow me on the Twitter already!  That's right, you know who you are.

Anyway, I am going to try and blog about my new life as a bike shop employee.  This is a dream job for me.  Don't question it, I have always wanted to be in an outdoor sports "shop".  When I was younger I skied, so I wanted to work in a ski shop.  When I started skateboarding I wanted to work in a skate shop.  Snowboard -board shop.  Now that I've been riding bikes my sights have been set on working in a bike shop.  There you have it in 200 words or less.

If you are the slight bit curious, great.  You probably would not be reading this if you were not just a little curious.  Who am I kidding there is like, what is it now three of you who read this.  Really this is not Fight Club, you can talk about my blog, and now blogs.  That's right people plural.  Blogs.

wrench-ed is the title of my new blog.  More to come on the title, the meaning, and where I came up with the idea behind the title.  For now you can find it in the My Blog List on the right of this page. ----->
Or, if you have to have the tech-no-whiz-bang:  wrench-ed.blogspot.com

Setting Course for Moab

The four of us ended up eating at a Mexican food joint on Main, and then back to our respective rooms at the same hotel.  The next morning found us headed off to some squiggly line on a map that the snowshoe rental guy pointed us.  He put off the attitude that he was less than helpful, yet very helpful.  Even through the fog of a few pints I had "a feeling".  The Forest Service Road was clean and dry up to the point that we are rim deep in snow.  We unanimously decide to turn back, back to the safety of pavement and road signs.  FiL and wife tell us of a trail that their Realtor showed them yesterday, and we point in that direction.

We pulled up to the trail head and it was, get this, just a few hundred feet from where we XC skied the day before.  How's that for you?  We did a nice little hike down into the valley below where the river and the Durango Narrow Gage RR tracks are nestled.  It was a beautiful hike and then we had to hike climb back out.  Luckily we had not strayed too far.

Packed up and ready to make some time to the promised land of Utah.  I have not been to Utah in over ten years.  The drive back reminded me of moving.  It was a flood of emotions, old scars were suddenly new and pink. Wounds fresh from battle.  My mind raced with images, and clips from the movie of my past.  Mostly good but like they say "you take the good, you take the bad", and there were a few bad apples in the basket.  There were memories that I have not thought upon that came to the surface like it were yesterday.  I really feel that geography can also attach itself into your subconscious and once back in a region or specific place it becomes a trigger.  I'm not talking about seeing, I'm talking about being.  Fragments of yourself that are left behind to be retrieved later, or never.

I never lived in Moab, and I only traveled through when going home or for vacations, but it had the feeling of familiarity.  I felt I knew the place and like I had belonged or do belong. It was good to be here.  We drove straight through town and right to Arches.  This place is huge.  I cannot describe it any better than that.  I like the word enormity.  Giant.  One, Arches is spread out and there is some drive involved in seeing the sights; two, everything is just so big.  We tried to do the express lane drive through and it was still too much.  The sun was leaving for the day, my passenger was becoming bored, I was feeling pressure to entertain my passenger.  Needless to say we left a great deal to see for next time.  I pray there is a next time.

Dead Horse Point is___________.  I can write cliches all night and they would all be true, but never show you what it is to see.  It made my knees weak and my stomach turn.  The void was massive, a negative space that seemed to want to drag me into it, if I stared too long or stood too close.  It had gravity an attractiveness that tugged at my soul and at my flesh.  I couldn't stop.  Looking.  I was an indiscriminate landscape voyeur.  Every vantage point a different pleasure yet it all was of the same.  All of this is too much to take in.  Good thing there is a MTB trail at the visitor center.  Time for some single track.

Last Tango in Durango

XC skiing is hard work, I don't like hard work, but I do like this.  If I lived in a snow-covered geographical location I could see myself getting all into to this.  That is just what I need another gear intensive sport that requires mountains of time to get good at, like I don't already have a garage full of toys.  Jack of All, Master of None.

With the sun directly overhead and my stomach sending my brain text messages, it is time to eat.  I do the whole man thing and go ask the rental guy where to get a good pint.  And some food.  The Old Schoolhouse just up the road.  Pizzas and beer.  Tons of atmosphere.  Closed.  Now what?  We are about 20some odd miles from Durango and starving.  Guess we are headed back to Durango, I am not going to fight the crowd at Purgatory Durango Mnt Resort.  Thirteen-ish miles and I spy a tiny Restaurant sign sandwiched between Gas and Groceries.

First impressions would have most people running for the hills or back to civilization, but the smell said "Stay".  Oh, heck yeah, pizza-by-the-slice -to order nonetheless.  Well worth the stop and I highly recommend.  Fuel level says F, time to humble oneself with some more XC.  Sun was warm, no wind and it was perfect.  The boss and I did another small loop, crashed some more, got tired and hung it up.  One more notch in the belt of life, XC skiing -check.

On the drive back to Durango it was decided by majority rule that we need to check out and quality control a local brewer.  Durango Brewery a few miles up and on the left.  I made a quick scan of the cars parked in the parking lot and determined we were headed into Locals Territory.  Other than stepping out of an Oklahoma platted Rav, we were pseudo-local.  Never look at a beer menu when wanting to present yourself as a local, just ask for the IPA.  No, really I just look to make sure they have an IPA, but what kind of brewery would you be if you did not have an IPA.  Come on.

The Boss texted the FiL to come out and have a pint.  I quickly made sure to get some samples for the FiL and wife.  They are not accustomed to craft beer.  Not to fear, we were able to get them into a Golden Ale for the FiL and a Hefeweizen for FiL's wife.  There was a slight mix up in the order and we had a Golden Ale that was orphaned.  Not to fear again, for I am a beer disposal unit and I adopted and promptly drank.  After a few pints time to hit the town to rent some snowshoes for the in-laws for an outing in the morning.

So I was about 0.0005secs from wetting my pants.  Don't judge, I had a few pints and then a cup of coffee.  It was the coffee that put me over the edge.  Thank goodness for the restroom in the back office of the snowshoe rental place, otherwise I would be facing indecent exposure charges or an embarrassing pant wetting story.  So it is time to get something to eat again and we head to another Durango brewery named Steamworks.  It was loaded, packed.  It was like an hour wait or something crazy bad like that.  It was packed full of tourists.  Not my cup of tea.  Time for a walk.

Falling or Failing

Dear Adoring Fan, and Mike,

Sorry I have not updated the blog with more of the Trip out West saga.  More to come on that.  Seriously, it's coming.  Just bare with me and stay tuned. I've been sick, traveled to Texas to celebrate my Dad's 70th Birthday.  Now I'm back in town trying to get into the routine, which it to not have a routine.  Anyway I know this all sounds like excuses, well good because that is exactly what it is. Excuses.  No, really it should sound more like and apology for my extreme amount of lameness.  I will try and crank out some more of the lies story to entertain you for the two and a half mins of your day.

I did have a good time at the folks house.  Got to see some cousins and family that I have not seen in ages.  There were a few missing, and that is just a part of this life thing.  People getting older, and at this late in the game it is either birthdays or funerals.  I hope to see more birthdays than the latter.  My parents look good and are doing good.  So good to spend time with them.  Don't want to forget my sister.  She came over from the Land of Enchantment and we had a good time drinking my homebrew.  My sister is the coolest, was when we were growing up and still is to this day.  Too bad we didn't have the Def Leopard lps so we could rock out to some Pyromania.  Just like old times.

Oh memory lane, the road that would be fun to travel, but only in our minds.  You can go home, just not to the past.  Time such a funny concept, or is it a funny construct.  Sorry I'm not supposed to swim out of the shallow end, these floaties aren't rated for my weight.  As those crazy kids say "Good Times".  Well, you and Mike, I've got to get some things done around the house and run some errands for the boss so that I can continue to live my fabulous lifestyle. 

See you in the funny pages.

Glenn Duh!